


blasphemous delights

by cataclysm_dialogue



Series: paradisiacal endeavors [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Author Is Not Religious, Biting, Blasphemy, Bottom Anakin Skywalker, Collars, Come Eating, Glove Kink, Human/Vampire Relationship, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Restraints, Rope Bondage, Top Obi-Wan Kenobi, Vampire Bites, Vampire Obi-Wan Kenobi, Vampire Sex, Vampire Turning, Vampires, Wax Play
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-15 10:07:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 30,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29312325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cataclysm_dialogue/pseuds/cataclysm_dialogue
Summary: “Perhaps I thought it was wise to trust in the old traditions,” Anakin says, and Obi-Wan looks into his wide eyes, dark pools of blue against the low light, a clear plea in his gaze.“Perhaps you did,” Obi-Wan says, and he lets go of the necklace, letting it tap against Anakin’s skin again. “And perhaps it’s time you learned better, my little Savior.”
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Series: paradisiacal endeavors [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2204538
Comments: 54
Kudos: 100





	1. eden

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Is0lde](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Is0lde/gifts).



> I would like to thank [Is0lde](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Is0lde/pseuds/Is0lde) for being an absolutely brilliant beta and a wonderful friend. Thank you for all the ways you enable me to be creative.

1523

  
“You can’t tell me you really believed this would work,” Obi-Wan speaks with all the ancient wisdom he possesses, and he feels a splinter of lost youth poke through him as he looks down at Anakin from where he is. Obi-Wan reaches down to let his fingertips brush the Crucifix necklace that Anakin is wearing, a glimmer of gold in the pale moonlight that streams through the windows of the castle.

“Perhaps I thought it was wise to trust in the old traditions,” Anakin says, and Obi-Wan looks into his wide eyes, dark pools of blue against the low light, a clear plea in his gaze.

“Perhaps you did,” Obi-Wan says, and he lets go of the necklace, letting it tap against Anakin’s skin again. “And perhaps it’s time you learned better, my little Savior.” 

Obi-Wan pushes Anakin’s hair out of his face, and it’s hypnotic, in a way, how Anakin leans into the touch, how his lips part almost as if in rapture. Obi-Wan leans down to where Anakin kneels and plants a kiss on the side of his neck.

“Oh…” Anakin sighs, and Obi-Wan’s cold lips linger on his neck for a while before he bares his teeth. He grazes his fangs over the side of Anakin’s neck before murmuring to him.

“Do you think you’re ready, my little deity? Do you think you’re ready to be _desecrated_?” Obi-Wan speaks against Anakin’s throat, his lips brushing the undeniable warmth that is Anakin’s lifeblood, just beneath the surface. And he’s hungry for it. A part of him would bleed Anakin dry. But a bigger part of him recognizes that Anakin is his salvation, and salvation is quite a gift to destroy.

“Not tonight, Obi-Wan. I want to be human a little longer,” Anakin says, his voice wavering only the slightest bit with indecision. Obi-Wan senses it like a feral animal, but he does not choose to prey on it. Never.

Obi-Wan withdraws and brings his hand to the Crucifix necklace again, his fingertips dancing on the tiny figure of a man. Or some would say more than a man. He lifts his other hand, the one that holds the crown, and places the crown upon Anakin’s head.

“A crown of thorns for Him; a crown of thorny roses for you, my wild rose.” 

Obi-Wan now uses both hands to position the crown atop Anakin’s head. Anakin winces a bit, the thorns pricking his scalp. How fitting for a Savior to suffer so. Obi-Wan smiles down at Anakin and cups his chin in his hand.

“Oh, my darling, how they would have adored you. How they would have fallen at your feet and worshiped you like the deity you should have been born as. How they would have begged to touch the hem of your garment to cleanse themselves from all wickedness. And now, you kneel before me, unsure of what you’re asking for, but sure of what you want, and oh, my little midnight bloom, how I want to give it to you tonight. But I will wait. For I don’t think I’ve hunted my prey nearly well enough.” Obi-Wan grins but he knows it’s more of a baring of teeth. 

Anakin rises to his feet and dusts off his knees. “Well then, _My Lord_ , I would hate to keep you waiting. Give me a head start, will you? I might be a bit slow compared to you, but I’ve learned your tricks.” 

Anakin begins to back away into the shadow of the corridor, confident in his strides though he seems a bit shaky. Obi-Wan lets him go, for what kind of predator would he be if he didn’t give his prey a chance? If he didn’t let Anakin believe that maybe this time he’ll outwit Obi-Wan? He adores Anakin more than anything in this mortal world and what might lie beyond it, but he cannot hide the fact that he is a hunter, that he loves this chase. Luckily for Anakin, the worst he’ll receive for his loss is a few marks on his neck.

“Catch me if you dare!” Anakin’s voice echoes through the corridor, and Obi-Wan knows Anakin must be hiding somewhere nearby. “If you find me, I’m yours to keep!” Anakin continues, and Obi-Wan begins to stride forward down the corridor, turning his head from side to side, looking to see if Anakin is behind any of the stone columns. The corridor is long, and Obi-Wan would be tempted to stop in the library were he not in pursuit of Anakin.

Then he sees it. A flash of movement behind a pillar. He silently moves towards it, walking up behind where he knows Anakin is standing. He hears Anakin giggle softly to himself. He can smell Anakin’s blood from here, hear it pumping through his delicate veins, rushing as it does when Anakin is excited. Delicious. Anakin shifts a little, as if impatient, and Obi-Wan smiles to himself at how endearing Anakin is.

Then he strikes.

Obi-Wan whirls around and pins Anakin to the stone, his arms on either side of Anakin’s head. 

“Fear not,” Obi-Wan purrs, pushing his body up against Anakin’s, reveling in the thrill of having caught him. Anakin chuckles.

“Obi-Wan, isn’t that what angels say?” 

“Yes Anakin, but why do you think they say it?” Obi-Wan pushes a knee between Anakin’s legs, spreading them as he speaks.

“I’m not sure,” Anakin says, and his voice wavers as Obi-Wan moves.

“Well, let me enlighten you,” Obi-Wan says, and he leans in until his lips are brushing Anakin’s ear. He moves his hands from the stone column and places them on either side of Anakin’s waist. “And this was their appearance; they had the likeness of a man. And every one had four faces, and every one had four wings,” Obi-Wan pauses as Anakin sighs. “Are you following along, my wild rose?” 

Anakin nods, apparently too engrossed in either the description or his own thoughts to make verbal statements. 

Obi-Wan goes on speaking, saying, “And their feet were straight feet; and the soles of their feet were like the sole of a calf's foot: and they sparkled like the color of burnished brass.” Obi-Wan murmurs in Anakin’s ear as he tightens his grip on his waist, and Anakin sighs a little once more, leaning into Obi-Wan’s touch. Obi-Wan continues. 

“And they had the hands of a man under their wings on their four sides; and they four had their faces and their wings. Their wings were joined one to another; they turned not when they went; they went every one straight forward… Doesn’t that sound lovely, dear one? I think it’s rather charming.” Anakin nods slightly as one of Obi-Wan’s hands travels downwards, stroking the smooth fabric of Anakin’s shift. But, never one to leave things unfinished, Obi-Wan speaks again.

“As for the likeness of their faces, they four had the face of a man, and the face of a lion, on the right side: and they four had the face of an ox on the left side; they four also had the face of an eagle. Thus were their faces: and their wings were stretched upward; two wings of every one were joined one to another, and two covered their bodies.” As Obi-Wan finishes, he licks the shell of Anakin’s ear, and Anakin shivers.

“Did that help? Though technically I was quoting Ezekiel concerning Cherubim, and there are different types of angels. What matters is that you know this: angels are far more bizarre and terrifying than your lesser men pretending to be gods would have you believe. Perhaps I’m more of an angel than we thought.” 

"Who?" Anakin seems slightly confused. Obi-Wan wonders what he could possibly be asking about, then he realizes. Anakin has likely never heard that story.

"Oh, my darling, whenever I quote scripture to you, it's been translated into English by myself. I don't trust anyone else to tell you the true meaning of scripture. That's probably the holiest thing about me." Obi-Wan chuckles, a harsh sound, filled with self-hatred, though he knows Anakin will open up and meet him where he is with all the love in the world.

And Anakin does. He knows what Obi-Wan needs. He puts his hand over Obi-Wan’s where it sits on his thigh and moves it towards his still clothed cock. Obi-Wan looks at Anakin and sees the request in his eyes. So he sweeps him up into his arms and carries him down the corridor, Anakin’s hand clutching his thorny crown to keep it from tumbling off his head, rose petals trailing behind them.

\---

“Tell me how that tastes, my wild rose,” Obi-Wan says, as he watches Anakin bite into an apple. Anakin seems to consider it for a second, his brow furrowing and his lips pursing slightly as if he’s considering the world’s greatest question. But at this moment, to Obi-Wan, who hasn’t _tasted food_ in centuries, it is the world’s greatest question. He feels affection blossom within him, in his ever still heart, as he watches Anakin puzzle through it.

“Crisp. It tastes crisp,” Anakin says, and Obi-Wan barks out a laugh.

“Crisp? _Crisp_? All that thought for one word?” Obi-Wan teases, but he stands up from his chair and walks over to kneel by where Anakin is sitting at the table, wearing a thin white gown. Anakin turns to face Obi-Wan in his seat and Obi-Wan pulls up Anakin’s gown so it’s around his thighs. Anakin whimpers a little though he’s not yet been touched and grabs fistfuls of the gown, hiking it up further to aid Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan kisses up the insides of Anakin’s legs as he coaxes him to sit on the edge of his seat. A strange kind of almost music haunts Obi-Wan’s senses, and as he looks up at Anakin, he knows he can’t even quite begin to start speaking of how much he means to him, but he will try in the only way he knows how.

“Anakin, do you know the story of Adam and Eve?” Anakin nods, looking a little confused. 

“Of course I know, Obi-Wan. I may be human, but I’m not a fool.” And a smirk begins to form on Anakin’s face. Obi-Wan is almost caught up in it, almost forgets exactly what it was he was going to say. Such is the nature of Anakin Skywalker. But he simply smirks back at Anakin and continues.

“They were innocent, once, in the garden. Just as you were not long ago. Just as I was eons ago. Then Eve tasted the fruit of the Tree, and she was no longer innocent. She would no longer have a place in the garden.” 

Obi-Wan reaches out and strokes Anakin’s cock gently, and Anakin’s breath catches in his throat.

“Adam tasted the fruit as well. I believe it was because he would not be parted from her. You have taken the forbidden fruit, my love. Knowledge is now yours, and I will not be parted from you. I will leave any Eden, I will walk any desert, all to be welcomed into your scorching embrace. For you are fury, my wild rose. You are pure intensity. But you are also mercy. You are the tide when it comes to rest against the shore. It’s divine, and I would blaspheme any scripture to tell you of my love.” Obi-Wan looks up, feeling his fangs retract as if eager, and Anakin is already starting to pant, so he takes the tip of Anakin’s cock into his mouth and looks Anakin in the eye as he tastes that which undoes him.

\---

“Oh, Obi-Wan, fuck me,” Anakin whines, splayed out on the sumptuous bed, the wine red blankets sitting against his golden skin in a way that makes him look otherworldly. Obi-Wan smiles down at him. Though they are both naked, they both know Obi-Wan could kill Anakin in a second, could snuff out his precious life in an instant. And Anakin trusts that he won’t. Or at the very least, maybe Anakin would happily die by Obi-Wan’s hand. 

Obi-Wan regards Anakin now, stretched out, slick with lubrication, stroking his own cock and begging for _more._ Obi-Wan reaches a hand out to stroke Anakin’s hair from where he kneels beside him on the bed, feeling the utter warmth that is Anakin Skywalker. He inhales sharply as he sees the pulse point in Anakin’s neck, and Anakin must realize it, because he bares his throat, as if inviting a bite. 

“I know you’re not going to turn me now, but I want your mouth on my neck, at least. Please, if you aren’t going to fuck me, just touch me somehow.” 

Anakin sounds absolutely wrung out with desperation, and Obi-Wan isn’t cruel enough to let him wait any longer. He moves to kneel between Anakin’s legs and spreads them impossibly wider, Anakin whimpering as he does so.

Obi-Wan pushes the tip of his cock inside Anakin, and Anakin squirms a little at the intrusion. Obi-Wan is there to stroke his hair and murmur in his ear. 

“How I would give you my life if I had one,” Obi-Wan murmurs as he pushes inside Anakin further. Anakin is already writhing, his hands clawing at the bedsheets as if it would grant him some focus.

“Obi-Wan, _I need it_ ,” Anakin whines, and Obi-Wan pushes in until he bottoms out, slowly moving as he watches Anakin’s face fall slack, his mouth hanging open. And Obi-Wan can’t help but think that if gods still spoke to men, Anakin would be telling prophecies the likes of which humanity had never seen.

“I’ll give you what you need, little Savior. Every good god demands a sacrifice, and I am willing to sacrifice myself at your altar. What would you have me do?” Obi-Wan leans in to press a kiss to Anakin’s forehead as Anakin struggles to find his words.

“Just, just fuck me. I need you,” Anakin pleads, and he wraps his arms around Obi-Wan’s neck as if to anchor him to his universe, as if to remind him that in Anakin’s presence, he becomes something new, something untarnished by the world, something nearly innocent. And oh, Obi-Wan knows if Anakin ever brandished a stake at him, he’d open his arms and invite him in to strike the killing blow, for what would he be if not a worshiper at Anakin’s shrine, a devout follower of Anakin’s religious presence. He wants it to end him. He wants it to continue forever. He revels in his indecision. Obi-Wan thrusts experimentally and Anakin keens, his arms tightening around Obi-Wan’s neck.

“They say the faithful will be rewarded, my little rose. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be satisfied. And how I satisfy myself with you, dear one,” Obi-Wan murmurs and thrusts a little faster. He sighs as he dips down to kiss Anakin, their mouths already half-open. Their tongues entwine and slide against each other, and Obi-Wan feels that there is no greater righteousness he could hunger after. Anakin is divinity, he is the holiest thing Obi-Wan has ever encountered, and Obi-Wan plans to worship him for the rest of his days. They break apart now, panting softly.

“There is no greater purity than this, my wild rose. No greater baptism of the soul, reborn in fire. Now, tell me, darling, how does that feel?” Obi-Wan watches Anakin’s face intently as he moves within him, waiting for Anakin to gather the wherewithal to speak. 

“It’s so good, Obi-Wan, it’s so fucking good,” Anakin grits out, and he lifts his hips up against Obi-Wan’s in an attempt to get more friction. Obi-Wan strokes his knuckles against Anakin’s cheek and Anakin leans into it, his eyes falling shut as Obi-Wan moves to graze his fangs against his bared throat. 

“Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth,” Obi-Wan murmurs against Anakin’s neck. “When you inherit the earth, dear one, will you leave room for me? Will we be like this, always?” Obi-Wan is unused to the anxiety that rises within his heart, but he welcomes it as a part of his utter devotion.

“Yes, _yes_ , always,” Anakin says, and at that moment, Obi-Wan feels as though he has been reborn in fire, that all his pretense and presumption have been burned away in the wake of Anakin’s sincerity like dry grass before ablaze.

“Obi-Wan, oh, _Obi-Wan_ ,” Anakin cries as Obi-Wan’s pace increases, and Obi-Wan truly never has felt more pure in all the centuries of his existence.

\---

2020

  
  


“Obi-Wan.”

“Obi-Wan.”

“Obi-Wan!” 

Obi-Wan opens his eyes to a moonlit sky and Anakin in his favorite nightgown. The field of wildflowers around them sways and dances in the clear spring night. Obi-Wan sits up as Anakin giggles.

“So sorry, dear one. I must have been daydreaming,” Obi-Wan says, and Anakin stands up and offers Obi-Wan a hand. Obi-Wan takes it and Anakin hauls him to his feet. Anakin is so much stronger than he once was, and looks older too; in his thirties, though Anakin always brushes it off when Obi-Wan mentions the specific age at which he was turned. Perhaps it’s too symbolic for him, but he has always been a Savior. Always has been one to lift Obi-Wan up from the depths of his suffering and despair and croon sweet prophecies of joy to come in his ear.

“Obi-Wan.” Anakin’s voice breaks Obi-Wan from his reverie, lifting him out of his pool of thought, and Obi-Wan allows his eyes to focus on Anakin, who is looking at him with a playful glint in his eyes. 

“Want to try and catch me? I bet you’ve grown slow with age, old man. If you do catch me, I’ll give you a treat.” And Anakin winks before adjusting the skirt of his deep red nightgown. It’s simple, thin straps and a v neck, all deep red silk. Knee-length, with a slit that runs up one side. Obi-Wan finds himself staring a bit, but he can hardly blame himself. But now Anakin is gone, skipping away through the wildflowers and looking back over his shoulder at Obi-Wan.

Anakin dances in circles, waiting for Obi-Wan to run after him, but for a moment, Obi-Wan is content to watch Anakin dance like a sprite of some sort under the moonlight. Their old castle lies in the distance, now only a pile of ruined rubble. But every once in a while, it’s nice to remember what once was. Obi-Wan watches as Anakin twirls around in the flowers, singing a sad song.

_“_ _What is plucked will grow again,_

_What is slain lives on,_

_What is stolen will remain_

_What is gone is gone..._

_What is sea-born dies on land,_

_Soft is trod upon._

_What is given burns the hand -_

_What is gone is gone..._

_Here is there, and high is low;_

_All may be undone._

_What is true, no two men know -_

_What is gone is gone..._

_Who has choices need not choose._

_We must, who have none._

_We can love but what we lose -_

_What is gone is gone."_

Obi-Wan runs to Anakin’s side in an instant. “Peter S. Beagle, hm? Is that what we’re doing tonight? I didn’t know you were such a big fan,” and he reaches out to wrap his arms around Anakin’s waist, but Anakin is already gone, sprinting to another corner of the meadow.

“I told you to catch me! You can do better than that!” 

Anakin’s laughter fills the air, and Obi-Wan watches as he who holds his still heart dances under the ever-watchful moon. He walks towards Anakin slowly. It’s as if he’s staring into open flame every time he gazes at Anakin, something white-hot and resistant to every leash. And yet Anakin has tethered himself to Obi-Wan. Has reached inside Obi-Wan’s mind and seen his vicious demons and refused to exorcise them. He’s stroked them, tamed them, shaped them into something different, and the ashes of Obi-Wan’s cruel, cold fire have been refined into something beautiful, something pure, something only Anakin could make. And as Obi-Wan approaches Anakin again, he reaches out to him, hoping to wrap his arms around silk covering golden skin.

But Anakin is gone again, now on the opposite side of the meadow, underneath a tree. He beckons to Obi-Wan and calls out “Come catch me, Obi-Wan. Come worship your Savior!” And something about that combination of words spilling from Anakin’s mouth awakens something in Obi-Wan, and before he realizes what he’s doing, he’s running to Anakin, pinning him against the tree, grazing his fangs over his neck.

“I knew you’d come,” Anakin says simply, and Obi-Wan can hear Anakin’s nails digging into the bark of the tree, likely leaving jagged lines in their wake. Obi-Wan whispers against Anakin’s neck as he’s done so many times.

“I’m here, my Savior. I need you. Baptize me in your warmth; purify me in your flame. Let me show you how righteous I am.” 

Obi-Wan remembers a time when Anakin was human, so fragile, when he would have shivered and crumpled into a begging mess at such words. But this Anakin is different. This Anakin laughs.

“I hope you came prepared, because I plan on enjoying my favorite devotee until he’s weeping and begging for me to let him come,” Anakin says, and he reaches down to palm at Obi-Wan’s clothed cock. Obi-Wan feels a spike of arousal shoot through him.

“I will do whatever it is you wish, my wild rose,” Obi-Wan says, and Anakin leans in to whisper in his ear.

“Do you know the story of Adam and Eve, Obi-Wan? I know you do. Have you ever thought perhaps the serpent didn’t deceive her at all? That she knew _exactly_ what she was doing when she tasted the fruit? I believe it was because she _didn’t want_ to be innocent any longer. I tasted the forbidden fruit a long time ago. Show me it was worth it.” 

And Anakin pulls back a bit and ducks away from Obi-Wan, moving to lie down on his back in the wildflowers, his legs obscenely spread as he hikes up his nightgown and begins to stroke his cock. Obi-Wan is on top of him in a flash, kissing up the side of his neck, sucking marks into it that they both know will fade all too quickly. Anakin sighs softly before speaking again.

“Do you have lube?” Anakin looks very hopeful, and Obi-Wan smiles as he pulls a small bottle out of his pocket. He starts to open it, but Anakin snatches it from him.

“I want you to watch. Sit beside me and watch me finger myself open for you. Get undressed for me too, okay?” Anakin speaks with an authority far beyond his age, and Obi-Wan resists the urge to chuckle and he stands up and begins to undress. Anakin’s moods are fickle things, fleeting as spring rain and glorious as a roll of thunder. 

Anakin slicks up his fingers and slides one into himself, sighing softly as he does so. “Obi-Wan, talk to me,” Anakin demands, and Obi-Wan smiles within himself as he makes eye contact with Anakin. He kneels in the grass beside Anakin.

“What could I say to my Savior? Your pleasure is my salvation, and to watch you take it for yourself is an honor I will always be grateful you bestow upon me. You are unlike anything I have ever experienced before and I doubt I will see your like again. Touch yourself, dear one. Get yourself ready for me.” 

Anakin smiles as he slides a second finger into himself. “Oh, that’s good, Obi-Wan. Tell me I’m good.” It’s not a soft request. It’s a command, and it makes a shiver run down Obi-Wan’s spine as he opens his mouth to speak again, mesmerized by the sight of Anakin pumping his fingers in and out of himself, watching him as his face contorts slightly in pleasure.

“You’re so good, Anakin.” The sentence is simple. It’s not filled with Biblical metaphors or flowery language. But Obi-Wan means it, oh he means it. And Anakin moans at the sound of it, his voice carrying high into the air as Obi-Wan watches him work himself open. And as Obi-Wan kneels beside Anakin, feels the breeze gently brushing through his hair, he thinks of all the years he’s had with Anakin, all the times he’s spent worshiping him, and how badly he wants to continue doing just that. Anakin slides a third finger into himself and groans, and Obi-Wan is there, brushing Anakin’s hair out of his face, looking down at him.

“It feels so good,” Anakin says, and his voice is punched out, thin, and needy. Obi-Wan positions himself above Anakin, preparing for Anakin’s begging.

“Oh, Obi-Wan, _please fuck me_ ,” Anakin whimpers, and Obi-Wan leans down to kiss his neck, murmuring to him.

“Ah, my wild rose, I’ll give you what you need,” Obi-Wan promises, and then he hears Anakin chuckle.

“That’s what you want? You want me whining and begging? Well if that’s what you want, you’ll have to _earn it_.” And Anakin slides his fingers out of himself and flips them over so Obi-Wan is pinned beneath him. He smiles down at him, baring his white teeth like the predator he is.

“Oh? Does my wild rose want to ride me? Does he want to bounce up and down on my cock until he’s begging for release?” Obi-Wan grips Anakin’s wrists as if to flip them again, but Anakin all but snarls at him.

“Be still. Your Savior commands it,” Anakin says, and just like the stormy seas calmed by a Christian deity, Obi-Wan relinquishes his hold, gives himself over to Anakin in this moment, and as Anakin grabs the lube and slicks up Obi-Wan’s cock, Obi-Wan groans softly, basking in Anakin’s raw force and power.

“I am yours to command, Anakin. Use me to take your pleasure,” Obi-Wan purrs, and Anakin positions himself above Obi-Wan’s cock and slowly begins to sink down, their bodies so accustomed to each other that the stretch comes easily to him now.

“Oh, that’s good. You’re always so good, Obi-Wan,” Anakin says, and he lifts himself up slowly before bringing himself back down and moaning softly, the sound like a fragile creature that lives for only a moment.

“What would I be if not good for my Savior?” Obi-Wan asks, but Anakin is so _tight_ around him, so exquisitely close to human again, that he finds himself gasping as Anakin begins to move in earnest. Anakin smirks above him and reaches a hand down to splay his fingers on Obi-Wan’s chest, his nails digging in slightly. And the pleasure of Anakin’s velvety body, the feeling of taking him in this way, is mixed with a tinge of pain, and the two sensations wrap around each other, intertwining into something oh so sweet.

“Oh God, Obi-Wan, you always feel so good inside me. So perfect. You’re right where I want you,” Anakin says, and he bounces up and down as Obi-Wan’s breaths grow faster. Watching Anakin is watching divinity incarnate. It is watching the beginning and the end of all things, and Obi-Wan sighs as he feels himself beginning to fall apart. He reaches his hands around and grips Anakin’s ass, spreading him open further, and the pretty moan that Anakin makes is more glorious than a choir of angels.

“Do you like that, my love? Oh, how I want to come inside you, leave you wet and dripping with me, soiling your pretty nightgown.” Anakin gasps and Obi-Wan tightens his grip on him, forcing him down harder, moving him upwards faster, giving him more, _more_ , everything that he wants.

“I have an idea,” Anakin says, and he places his hands atop Obi-Wan’s and removes them from his body. He gently pulls off of Obi-Wan and moves to get on all fours, pulling his nightgown up so it’s bunched up around his waist, silk pooling in ripples on his perfectly golden skin. 

Obi-Wan doesn’t need any further encouragement. He gets up and positions himself behind Anakin, teasing at Anakin’s entrance with his cock. He holds Anakin’s hip with one hand, his thumb rubbing over Anakin’s hipbone, and Anakin looks back at him.

“Get on with it, Obi-Wan.” The sentence is charged with authority, and Obi-Wan slides his cock inside Anakin in one fluid motion, making Anakin squirm a little and gasp. But his surprise doesn’t last long. He pushes back against Obi-Wan, murmuring, “Fuck me like you mean it.”

So Obi-Wan grips Anakin’s hips and thrusts _hard_ into him, already feeling heady with Anakin’s command over the situation. He knows, as he always does, that to be in Anakin’s presence is a gift. It is salvation, and Obi-Wan will not squander it. He thrusts into Anakin harder and is rewarded with a soft moan.

“Pull my hair,” Anakin demands, and without a second thought, Obi-Wan is reaching a hand out to thread his fingers through Anakin’s hair and tug. And Anakin leans into it, tilts his head back, exposing his throat, and Obi-Wan knows if Anakin were still human, he’d be able to smell his human blood like a sweet perfume. But this Anakin is no longer fragile, breakable, mortal. This Anakin’s presence has settled into Obi-Wan’s bones and made a home there, and Obi-Wan pulls his hair harder, hard enough to make Anakin yelp as Obi-Wan fucks into him.

“Is that good enough for you, dear one?” Obi-Wan asks, and he’s rewarded by Anakin pushing himself back and grinding against him.

“Mmm, I love fucking myself on your cock. It’s always so good. Touch me, Obi-Wan. Touch my cock. Make me come for you. I want you to feel when I come on your cock.” Anakin turns his head to look at Obi-Wan as Obi-Wan releases his hair, and his face is the perfect image of debauchery, his eyes half-lidded and his lips slightly parted, his hair messy as he pushes himself back onto Obi-Wan’s cock. 

“I’ll give you what you need,” Obi-Wan says, and he reaches a hand around to stroke Anakin’s cock, smearing precum over the head, making Anakin whimper a little.

“There we go. Relax and let yourself feel good,” Obi-Wan says, and though Anakin keeps pushing himself back onto Obi-Wan, the frantic energy surrounding him has dissipated like mist over the ocean. He’s finally relaxing into the feeling of being fucked, finally allowing himself to be wrapped up in Obi-Wan’s presence.

“That feels so good, Obi-Wan. Keep doing that.” Obi-Wan would chuckle at Anakin’s commanding nature if he weren’t so close to falling apart himself, his very being held together by the shaky scaffolds of his self-control. And then Anakin clenches down around him.

“Oh God, Anakin. _Anakin_.” Obi-Wan feels himself trembling slightly as Anakin grinds back against him, and he knows it won’t be long before he reaches that precipice. So he strokes Anakin faster, needing to make him come undone, and Anakin whines a little at the change in pace.

“I’m so close, Obi-Wan. I’m gonna come. Make me come on your cock.” And Obi-Wan can’t resist; he twists his hand around the head of Anakin’s cock and then he hears Anakin cry out into the clear night air, a sound that may have been meant as Obi-Wan’s name. But oh, now Anakin is clenching down around him again and Obi-Wan is _gone_.

He feels himself coming inside Anakin, feels Anakin grinding back against him, hears him whimpering, “I’m so _sensitive_ ,” and grips Anakin’s hips, his muscles straining as he dives into the pool of pleasure that is his orgasm.

\---

1522

  
  


The storm rages around the castle, its winds whipping and howling as Obi-Wan sits in front of his fireplace. He studies the book in his hands, bored and uninterested in his surroundings.

A knock at the door.

Obi-Wan hopes that at least it’s someone vaguely interesting. He walks down the corridor and opens the heavy doors of his castle, the wood creaking as he reveals a hooded figure.

The figure immediately takes down their hood to reveal an absolutely _radiant_ young man. The young man looks a bit nervous, but determined, and he grins at Obi-Wan.

“Good evening. I am Anakin Skywalker.”


	2. apotheosis

June 1533

The doors of the chapel swing open as if of their own accord, and Obi-Wan gestures to Anakin, bowing slightly. 

“After you,” Obi-Wan says, and Anakin begins to walk down the aisle, past the pews, his plain white gown fluttering softly as he moves though there is no breeze. Obi-Wan closes the chapel doors as Anakin turns back to look at him and halts in his tracks, his bare feet restless against the floor.

“Aren’t you coming?” Anakin asks, and for once—throughout their entire friendship, their entire relationship—Anakin appears deeply nervous, standing as if at a crossroads, having chosen eternal undying. He shifts from foot to foot, rocking back and forth as Obi-Wan walks up to him, and he looks into Obi-Wan’s eyes with a tragic excitement in his eyes.

“My wild rose, how innocent you are, still. There will be no going back from this. Just as in the garden of Gethsemane, you have chosen to not let this cup pass from you, to drink it down to its very last dregs and let your innocence die amidst screams of horror and pleas for more. Do you still want this?” 

“ _Yes_ ,” Anakin breathes. “I would not be parted from you, ever. Let me bind myself to you in this way.” And Anakin reaches out a hand and takes one of Obi-Wan’s in his own, bringing it to his lips and kissing it softly, murmuring against Obi-Wan’s knuckles. “I am ready to leave Eden.” 

Somehow, those words murmured from Anakin’s lips send a shiver through Obi-Wan, a need to bite him, to turn him, to give him what he wants. It’s a rush, as being in Anakin’s presence always is. But tonight feels slightly different. Tonight, Anakin will become another shadow. Tonight will mark the beginning and end of his life, and these moments must be savored.

Obi-Wan looks at Anakin as he releases Obi-Wan’s hand. Now age thirty-three, all the vestiges of boyhood are gone from Anakin’s face. How fitting. A true Messiah, sent to save Obi-Wan from the sedation he’d self-imposed. Anakin is waiting for Obi-Wan to speak; that much is clear, but Obi-Wan wants to take a moment to admire Anakin. To marvel at how his skin still looks perfectly golden in the faint light that streams in through the chapel windows. How his full lips are curving upwards into a smile that would rival the sunlight in its brightness. How there are new lines in his face, ever so faint, but noticeable enough that Obi-Wan knows they are there. Anakin is watching Obi-Wan like a long-suffering god watches an unsure devotee, and Obi-Wan wonders if Anakin is really the one who will need reassurance tonight.

Obi-Wan leans in and plants a chaste kiss on Anakin’s lips. He pulls away ever so slightly, enough that he and Anakin are still sharing the same oxygen. “Then let me lead you out of Eden, my wild rose. I will turn you, just as you wish. Come with me to your altar, my sacrificial lamb.” And Obi-Wan takes Anakin’s hand and begins to lead him down the aisle, looking up at the stained glass windows of the chapel as they go, his thoughts aflame with Anakin, Anakin, _Anakin_.

“Do you see them, Anakin? These old gods whom your people revere and bow to even as they blaspheme them with their actions? You belong with them. You belong with Michael the Archangel, with Moses, with Jesus even. Your image should be branded in the minds of all the faithful, furious and intense and sweet and merciful as you are. I do not deny I have greatly anticipated this day, when you put aside the trappings of your humanity and become what I believe you were born to be.” Obi-Wan speaks with authority as Anakin remains silent, and it is not long before they reach the altar.

\---

June 1522

“I know what you are,” the young man, Anakin, claims. His hair is damp from the rain despite the cloak he wore, and it plasters to his face in a way that’s far too endearing for Obi-Wan to observe for too long. Obi-Wan can already feel the seed of affection germinating within him, and no human has ever accomplished that. There is no reason why Anakin should be the first. So Obi-Wan rubs his beard thoughtfully, as if considering Anakin’s statement, and makes him wait for a moment.

Obi-Wan finally looks back into Anakin’s eyes and says, “Would you like to sit down?” He knows his mind is firing off defense mechanisms left and right, trying to keep this young man from getting to him, but there’s something about Anakin that is worming its way into Obi-Wan’s soul in the most pleasant sort of way, and Obi-Wan resists the urge to smile fondly as Anakin huffs and steps inside the castle.

\---

June 1533

“How much will it hurt?” Anakin asks, though he sounds less frightened and more curious. Obi-Wan regards him fondly as he positions him behind the altar. Built over an ancient shrine, this altar contains magic as deep as the foundations of the earth, and it will ease Anakin’s passing into the world of the undead, making his transformation last a much shorter time. 

“It will hurt a great deal at first, but you’ll also feel pleasure. Then you’ll be wracked with slight chills for a short while as your body adjusts, and then finally, you shall be as I am. Is that to your satisfaction?” Obi-Wan looks at Anakin as Anakin nods and then holds out his arm. Obi-Wan places his lips against the inside of Anakin’s elbow and plants a kiss there.

“How pretty a thing your humanity is. Untouched, untainted by immortality,” Obi-Wan murmurs against Anakin’s skin, and then he bites.

\---

September 1522

“I love you, Obi-Wan. I should have told you sooner,” Anakin says as they walk side by side down one of the castle’s corridors. He sounds almost shy, and Obi-Wan resists the urge to kneel before him and pledge his allegiance then and there. But then, he thinks, will he find himself wishing he had worshiped Anakin sooner, one day far from now, wrapped up in the future? So he gives in, he lets his feelings master him, and he brings Anakin’s hand to his lips and kisses it softly.

“I love you too, Anakin.”

\---

June 1533

“Obi-Wan, look. I’m bleeding.” Anakin says the words casually as he holds out his arm for Obi-Wan to see. Obi-Wan watches as a tiny rivulet of blood flows down from the inside of Anakin’s elbow to his wrist. He resists the urge to take, to drink, to use Anakin for his own selfish hunger. Tonight, Anakin will turn.

“So you are, my little Savior. But do the humans not teach that Jesus bled for us? Do they not tell us of how the Messiah of the world sacrificed his fragile humanity to ascend into Godhood? All Saviors must bleed, my love.” And oh so cautiously, Obi-Wan steps closer to Anakin, pushing his back up against the altar like a cornered animal. But tonight, Obi-Wan is no hunter. Tonight, he is a disciple. He takes Anakin’s hand and licks a long stripe from his wrist to his elbow, lapping up the blood that’s gathered there and kissing the bite mark on Anakin’s inner elbow.

“Hungry?” Anakin asks, humor tinting his voice. Oh, what a ray of pure sunlight Anakin is. Clear, beautiful daylight, at once forbidden and desired. Obi-Wan chuckles as he pulls away slightly. He only has a few moments before it sets in in earnest.

“Always,” Obi-Wan murmurs as he brushes his knuckles against Anakin’s cheek. And then it happens. Anakin’s face twists in a mockery of the pleasure he’s displayed so many times with Obi-Wan, and he reaches behind him to grip the edges of the altar with white knuckles.

“I think...I think it’s starting,” Anakin says. “Oh god, I didn’t think it would start this soon.” And then Anakin cries out wordlessly and falls into a crouch, his voice echoing in the chapel like that of a brutalized Saint. Obi-Wan kneels beside him, cupping his face in his hand and tilting his face upwards to look into Obi-Wan’s eyes.

“I will do anything you command, my wild rose. Tell me what it is you need, and I will trudge to the ends of the earth to attain it. I will die at your hands if you so wish it. Let me be with you tonight. Let me prove my devotion.” As Obi-Wan speaks, Anakin pants and clutches his arm.

“I can feel it spreading,” Anakin says simply, and his voice is far too calm for one in his situation. But he always was more than a man. 

“Tell me what it is you need,” Obi-Wan says, pleading now as he removes his hand from Anakin’s face. He clutches at the hem of Anakin’s simple white gown now, supplication flooding his senses as he speaks again. “My love, this will be but a passing moment in the grand history of our lives. We will live as new gods, with the world at our feet. I am here. Always.”

Now Anakin looks at him with a clarity in his eyes that only comes to those who have ascended beyond great physical pain. “I want you to touch me. I want you to fuck me, right here on this altar. You’ve called me your Messiah. So worship me.”

\---

December 1522

“Have you ever heard the story of Moses, Anakin?” Obi-Wan asks, his voice haughty with a sliver of increasing fondness seeping into it. He and Anakin stand before the grand fireplace in Obi-Wan’s great hall, on opposite sides of it. Anakin nods.

“Of course, Obi-Wan. I may be young, but I know the stories.” There’s a hint of petulance in Anakin’s tone, and Obi-Wan finds himself wanting to bathe in it; wanting to forever remember the moment when Anakin’s lower lip sticks out slightly in a pout, the way he looks at Obi-Wan and waits for him to continue.

“Moses was chosen, Anakin, or so they say. Despite being a mere human, the story says that he performed wonders far beyond his capacity as a mere human. Few are chosen, Anakin. But I choose you, whatever you would like that to mean. I would make you my Messiah if you would only allow it. Perhaps, being chosen by a vampire does not hold the same honor as being a man in a story who was chosen by a deity, but I would offer you my undying devotion and my ever faithful adoration, if you would have me.” And Obi-Wan slinks towards Anakin, walking so he’s standing in front of him, far too close for friendliness. He brushes his knuckles against Anakin’s cheek.

“Oh…” Anakin sighs and leans into it, his eyelids fluttering shut as if finally experiencing relief from great pain. Then his eyes shoot open and he reaches up to grab Obi-Wan’s wrist, looking him in the eye as if he himself were the predator, and not the fragile prey he can’t help but be. Seemingly realizing what he’s done, he smiles sheepishly, but opens his mouth to speak nonetheless.

“I want that, Obi-Wan. I want to be your Messiah. I want your devotion and your admiration. Being chosen by you is...more than I could ever ask for. I _want you_.” Anakin’s voice grows slightly high pitched at the end of his little declaration, and he lets go of Obi-Wan’s wrist, as if releasing Obi-Wan from any obligation to him. But his grip relinquishes reluctantly, as if he cannot bear to give Obi-Wan up even if only for a moment. Obi-Wan cups Anakin’s cheek in his hand and draws impossibly nearer, the tips of their noses touching, placing his other hand on Anakin’s waist.

“At any other time, in any other life, as any other being, I would choose you, just as I have chosen you now. Oh, Anakin, may I kiss you?” Obi-Wan asks, the words but a breath of air sweeping past his lips.

“ _Yes_.”

\---

June 1533

“Oh, _Obi-Wan_ , I can really feel it,” Anakin whines as his hands grip the edges of the altar. Obi-Wan is working two slick fingers in and out of him, Anakin’s thin white gown bunched up around his waist. Anakin sounds at once both wrecked and at peace, the gasps leaving his lips like prayers to a God who would only ignore him. But Obi-Wan will not. 

“How does it feel, my wild rose?” Obi-Wan asks, before curling his fingers within Anakin, feeling his warmth around him, so soft and tight, almost ready for Obi-Wan’s cock. 

“Ah! It feels...it feels good...I’m just so _sensitive_ ; I can feel my body changing. Oh, I need your cock, Obi-Wan. I need you to fuck me through it. Please, please make me feel good.” Anakin sounds desperate, sounds as if he’s clawing up the walls of a temple, begging for entrance yet being denied every time. But Obi-Wan will not deny him. Never.

“Hush, hush, my love. I’ll make you feel good. Are you ready for another finger?”

“ _Please_ ,” Anakin responds, almost before the words leave Obi-Wan’s mouth. “I need you to fill me up. I need you to make me feel whole, Obi-Wan. I promise I’ll be good.” And the warmth of Anakin’s body, the transparency of his pleas, the way he whimpers every now and then, makes Obi-Wan shudder as if a chill wind had just passed through. Anakin needs him, so he slips a third finger inside him, his desire spreading its wings like an angel of old. The carnal image of Anakin on the altar, legs spread, almost ready to be fucked makes Obi-Wan want to rip his own heart out and lay it at Anakin’s feet as an offering to him, as a symbol of Anakin’s irrevocable hold on him.

“Oh god, I love when you finger me open,” Anakin whines, and he looks back at Obi-Wan with tears in his eyes, his cheeks flushed. “You always get me so nice and stretched for you, ready to take your cock. Oh fuck, just thinking about taking it makes me feel warm inside. Obi-Wan, you don’t understand; I _need_ it. I need you inside me, need you making me yours. And then I want you to come inside me, make me dripping wet for you. Fuck, I love when you make me wet. And I’m already wet for you, in a way. I can feel my cock dripping. God, I’m so ready for you to take me. Don’t make me beg anymore; please give me what I need.” Tears are streaming down Anakin’s face now, and he seems about ready to sob with his need, so Obi-Wan leans over and plants a kiss on Anakin’s shoulder. Anakin opens his mouth immediately, sighing pitifully, his sweet breath fanning over Obi-Wan’s face as he chokes on a moan and trembles against Obi-Wan.

“ _God_ , Obi-Wan, _please_ …”

“Darling, I would never leave you wanting,” Obi-Wan says, and he pulls away and slides his fingers out of Anakin, wiping them on his pants before taking his cock out. Anakin is still looking back at them, and his eyes widen as Obi-Wan slicks up his cock.

“Oh _god_ , you’re going to fuck me while you’re still dressed? Oh _fuck_ …” Anakin shivers a little and his eyelids flutter closed for a moment before his eyes focus on Obi-Wan again.

“Is that a problem? I can undress, if you prefer—”

“No, no, no, oh fuck, _please_. I want you to fuck me like that; please don’t make me wait any longer! Oh god, I just need it so much right now. I want you to _use_ me, Obi-Wan. Break me in, show me how you’d rip me apart.” Anakin sobs again, shivering in the air of the chapel, though the air around them is quite warm. Obi-Wan lines himself up with Anakin’s entrance and Anakin is really crying now. Obi-Wan reaches a hand out to wipe the tears from Anakin’s eyes, but they keep streaming down onto Anakin’s hot cheeks. Obi-Wan wonders how far along Anakin is in his transformation as he pushes the head of his cock inside him.

“ _Fuck_! Oh, it’s so _big_ , Obi-Wan. I always forget how _big_ your cock is. Oh god, it’s so good, stretching me out so perfectly. Don’t put it all in yet; go slow. I want to feel how it fills me up. Can you feel how tight I am around you? And even after you got me ready. And god, you’re so _hard_ for me. Oh, I don’t know why but everything feels so much _more_ than usual. Oh _fuck_ , I feel so _good_ ; I think if you move you’re gonna make me come already. I don’t want to come yet, Obi-Wan.” Through it all Anakin is crying and whimpering, his fingers clawing at the altar as Obi-Wan waits for him to grow used to the sensations, using one hand to rub his back and the other to stroke his hair.

“You can come, my little Messiah. You’re just feeling the intensity of a turning. It’s completely normal. Let me in. Let me fill you up. I promise I’ll make you feel heavenly, my wild rose. Let me aid you in your time of need.” Obi-Wan now slides his cock a little farther into Anakin, and Anakin whimpers again as he turns to look forward. Obi-Wan grips his hips as he slides all the way in, and Anakin _keens_. He shivers around Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan leans over him to whisper in his ear.

“See, darling Anakin? That wasn’t so difficult. Besides, just as Daniel, you have already entered the lions’ den. And as he did, you will arrive at the next morning unscathed, a new version of yourself. Let me guide you through tonight. I will fuck you through it just as you asked. So come for me, my perfect one.” And Obi-Wan pulls almost all the way out of Anakin and thrusts back in, perfectly aimed.

“Oh _fuck_ , I’m—” But Anakin doesn’t finish his sentence. It remains beautifully and abruptly cut off as if sliced through with a knife, and he moans, a long, drawn-out thing, a one voice choir whose song lodges itself in Obi-Wan’s mind, never to be forgotten. After all, Anakin will only be like this for one night.

“Are you alright, my darling?” Obi-Wan asks as Anakin pants, squirming a little. He must be unbelievably overwhelmed.

“I’m...I’m so _sensitive_. I can feel so much. I’m sorry, I didn’t want to come yet; I just couldn’t help it—”

“You have nothing to apologize for, my wild rose. Tonight is the night of your resurrection. Like he who they called the Son of God, you have gone willingly to be sacrificed, and you shall emerge even greater than ever before. Tonight, little Savior, you are being _remade_.” And Obi-Wan thrusts slowly in and out of Anakin, making Anakin whine where he stands bent over the altar. 

“O—Obi-Wan, keep doing that, yes, please. It’s starting to feel _really good_. Don’t stop. Oh, it hurts so good. I can feel it—ah!” And Anakin’s body is wracked with a near convulsion as his transformation begins in earnest. Obi-Wan grips his hips tightly to keep him in place, hoping Anakin doesn’t hit his face against the altar. Anakin cries out wordlessly into the night air, the sound bouncing off the walls of the chapel like a beam of light, so precious in its agony.

“Do you want me to keep going, Anakin? I can stop if you wish to sit down.” And as Anakin’s shudders cease, Obi-Wan begins to pull out of him. But Anakin all but snarls and whips his head around to look at Obi-Wan, baring his teeth to reveal canines that have sharpened and elongated into fangs. Obi-Wan drums his fingertips against Anakin’s skin in an effort to contain his rabid excitement at Anakin’s feral gaze.

“I said... _keep doing that_ ,” Anakin demands, and Obi-Wan knows that Anakin has begun his descent into the life of an eternal predator, a life of thirst and agony, a life of disinterested stares at humanity. But Obi-Wan knows Anakin won’t ever look back. So Obi-Wan thrusts into Anakin, hands tightening on his hips, feeling as though he’s reaching the light at the end of a very long tunnel.

“I’ll give you what you need, my little rose. Don’t bite your lip too hard. Common mistake.” And Obi-Wan watches as Anakin’s face relaxes into absolute ecstasy. For someone who claimed he was leaving Eden, Anakin certainly looks as if he’s in paradise. 

“Oh, _Obi-Wan_ —ah!” Anakin begins shaking again, and Obi-Wan almost stops his movements, but he remembers Anakin’s request and keeps moving within him as Anakin lets his head hang down between his shoulders, his breath heavy and his body heaving with it as he inhales deeply, trying to breathe through the pain and sensitivity.

“You will be as a young god, Anakin. You will finally claim the divinity you deserve. It is as was said in the book of Matthew: “Think not that I am come to destroy the law, or the prophets: I am not come to destroy, but to fulfill.” You will not destroy any part of yourself tonight. Tonight, you fulfill the old laws and become the deity you should have been born as.” Obi-Wan observes as Anakin convulses again under his hand, crying out in a holy marriage of pain and pleasure as Obi-Wan moves within him, his body growing harder to restrain by the minute.

“I want it...oh, I want it so badly. I want to be with you forever,” Anakin stutters out as he gains some coherence, and Obi-Wan can tell they’re nearing the height of Anakin’s transformation. The moment when his heart will grow still. Obi-Wan knows he’ll be able to feel it, so he grips him tighter, fucks him harder, hopes all the more that Anakin will not regret what he’s chosen.

“We will have each other forever, Anakin, I promise. The ages of the earth will come and go; the fortunes of men will rise and fall, but we will stand...oh, Anakin, you‘ve always been so perfect.” Obi-Wan can feel pleasure building within him, settling within his stomach and pooling in his muscles, and he needs to be sure Anakin is alright before he succumbs to anything, so he slows his pace, rubs Anakin’s hips with his thumbs, and waits for him to speak.

“Obi-Wan...why did you stop? Do you need something? I know what you need. You need to wrestle me down to the floor, push me down against the ground, look into my eyes as I tremble for you, and fuck into me so hard I scream. I’ll make it easy for you.” And in the meager space between them and the altar, Anakin pulls off of Obi-Wan, and moves to lie on his back on the stone floor, hiking his gown up and reaching a hand out to languidly stroke his cock. And he looks absolutely _delectable_ , legs spread, stretched and open, ready for Obi-Wan to take him, cock slowly being coaxed back to hardness. He wants Obi-Wan to play the part of the predator tonight? So be it. 

Obi-Wan stalks towards him, walking slowly before settling himself on top of him and brushing his knuckles against his cheek. “Well, what do we have here? A pretty little thing just waiting to be taken? Just waiting to be tainted? Spread your legs a little wider for me, there’s a good boy.” And Obi-Wan lines himself up again as Anakin holds his breath before his eyes roll back in his head and his hands fly up to grip Obi-Wan’s shoulders with a bruising hold.

“ _Take me_.” Anakin’s voice is laced with finality as he’s wracked with shudders, just as Obi-Wan said he would be. Obi-Wan pushes his cock inside Anakin in one fluid motion, and Anakin squirms as it happens, his back rubbing and scraping against the stone floor. And through it all, Obi-Wan notices something with a tinge of regret. Anakin’s blood no longer smells human, and he’s no longer crying out in pain. His transformation is nearing its completion.

“Oh, my wild rose, you are almost as I am.” And Obi-Wan leans in to plant a kiss on Anakin’s lips, chaste though he thrusts into him all the harder. Anakin whines as he shivers again, but his convulsions have changed from violent stormy waves to calm ripples on the ocean of his soul. 

“Obi-Wan, oh this feels...different. I can feel you more, but it’s different. Keep fucking me. I feel stronger. I want you to fuck me _hard_ this time. I’m not so fragile anymore, Obi-Wan. _Give it to me_.” And Anakin smiles in the moonlight, his eyes flashing crimson in the moonlight, just as Obi-Wan’s. He is reborn, and he is _insatiable_. Obi-Wan thrusts faster, pushes Anakin to the ground as he moves, not caring for his lost fragility.

“You can do better than _that_. I gave up the human world for you; show me what I get for it.” Anakin’s tone is teasing, but Obi-Wan takes the bait like the predator he is and bares his teeth before abruptly pulling out of Anakin again.

“Get up on the altar.”

“We were already there, Obi-Wan. What do you—” But Obi-Wan is already standing up, grabbing Anakin and picking him up before walking back to the altar and placing Anakin atop it, ripping his gown down the middle so Anakin’s skin is exposed to the night air, roughly spreading his legs apart as Anakin whimpers and leans back on his hands to try and keep his balance.

“I’m giving you what you wanted. Keep your legs open for me, and do try not to fall backwards.” Anakin huffs indignantly but Obi-Wan is already pushing his cock inside him and thrusting, giving him no chance to make a smart remark.

“Imagine what a congregation would say about you now, Anakin. If there were a crowd gathered to hear the word of God, and they saw you getting fucked on this altar, moaning like you were paid to do it. They’d probably think they’d discovered a new god, a new holy ritual. They would all be mesmerized; they would all want to touch you.” Obi-Wan waits a moment for Anakin to gain enough composure to speak.

“Would you let them?” Anakin breathes, his eyes wide as he looks at Obi-Wan, indulging in their little fantasy.

“Would you?” Obi-Wan tightens his grip on Anakin’s thighs.

“Never,” Anakin swears, his face darkening now. “ _Never_.” The word leaves his mouth like a holy decree, and Obi-Wan feels a chill run down his spine at the power in Anakin’s voice.

Anakin has stopped shivering, and Obi-Wan knows he is no longer human, so he digs his nails into Anakin’s flesh and thrusts into him more roughly. Anakin grips the edges of the altar, spreading his legs even wider, and Obi-Wan gazes at his pretty cock, hard again after Obi-Wan’s ministrations.

“Oh, my wild rose, you’re so ready for me. Your body welcomes me in as if we were born to fit together. How I have waited to _ruin_ you, to make you cry for me. Play with yourself while I fuck you, Anakin. Show me how good I make you feel.” And Obi-Wan watches as Anakin carefully moves a hand to touch his cock.

“Ah, ah, ah, dear one, play with your pretty chest first.” And, understanding, Anakin brings his hand to his chest and rubs his fingertips over his nipple, arching into his own touch as he does so, a little breathy whine escaping him.

“That’s it, little rose, show me how lovely you look when you’re giving yourself pleasure. Oh, how I love to watch you, lost in how good you make yourself feel.” And Obi-Wan reaches a hand down to massage Anakin's stretched rim. Anakin jolts like he’s just been struck with lightning.

“Oh _god_ , that’s so good. It’s so amazing that you’re still dressed; so good…” Anakin trails off, then there’s a light in his eyes.

“What is it, dear one?” Obi-Wan asks, curious as to what has Anakin so excited.

“Your gloves...do you have them? In your pocket?” Anakin sounds urgent.

“Yes, Anakin, but why—”

“Put them on, please. I want you to touch me while you’re wearing them.” Not wasting any time, Obi-Wan pulls out of Anakin and pulls his leather gloves out of his pocket, putting them on as Anakin closes his legs. Obi-Wan shakes his head and puts his hands on Anakin’s knees.

“Anakin, don’t be silly…”

“Obi-Wan, I want you to spread my legs while you’re wearing those. I want you to really touch me,” Anakin says, and he bites down on his bottom lip as Obi-Wan grips his thighs with his gloved hands and pulls them apart.

“Like that, my wild rose?” asks Obi-Wan, desire lacing his voice as he sees Anakin’s cock twitch and Anakin’s head fall back as he moans.

“Oh _fuck_ , that’s good. I want you to touch me with your hands while you fuck me. Please, Obi-Wan.” And as Obi-Wan slides his cock back inside Anakin, he strokes his thighs, watching Anakin tremble.

“Obi-Wan, that’s perfect, keep touching me, oh it feels so good. Oh, Obi-Wan, I want you to wait to make me come again. I want you to come inside me and then put your fingers in me so I can feel your hands inside me after you make me all wet. Can you do that, Obi-Wan?” Anakin sounds desperate, and Obi-Wan chuckles softly as he keeping moving within him.

“Anything for you, my little Messiah. Now, where would you like me to touch you?” Obi-Wan knows he only has so long before pleasure grips him, so he grits his teeth and tries to maintain a sense of calm as Anakin speaks.

“My chest, touch my chest,” Anakin says, and Obi-Wan reaches a hand out to play with one of Anakin’s nipples, the leather of his glove slightly catching on Anakin’s smooth skin.

“If anyone...if anyone saw us now, they’d think I was your _whore_ ,” Anakin whispers, and he arches into Obi-Wan’s touch as much as he can.

“They’d see you taking my cock so well, gown in tatters around you while you moan for me. Yes, they would think you’re my whore. But little would they know, you are my _Savior_ ,” Obi-Wan replies, and as Anakin moans in response, he feels his breathing grow heavier as the effect of Anakin settles in, as the pleasure of being inside his body, inside his mind, works its way through Obi-Wan. Anakin is trembling against him again, and Obi-Wan speeds up the pace of his thrusts, one hand gripping Anakin’s thigh for stability.

“Are you going to come inside me? Are you going to fill me up, make me yours, ruin me?” Anakin asks, and his voice wavers slightly as if he feels so good he can hardly speak properly.

“ _Yes_ , Anakin. Do you want that? Do you want me to make you nice and wet for me?” Obi-Wan feels his thrusts grow sloppier, and Anakin nods vigorously.

“Yes, please, please. Come inside me, Obi-Wan. I _need_ it.” And Anakin clenches down around him, and Obi-Wan feels himself step off the edge of the precipice. He feels himself fall through the air, down through nothing, never to hit the ground. And as he opens eyes that he didn’t realize he’d closed, he hears Anakin saying something like “Yes, so good for me,” and he feels himself inhale as he finally slows in his descent towards pure ecstasy, as his body is wracked with tiny aftershocks, and his mind is lying in a field of wildflowers.

He looks at Anakin now, gazes into his eyes as he takes a moment to appreciate things before pulling out of him. When he does, he tucks his cock back into his pants and brushes himself off. But then he hears a whimper.

“Obi-Wan, I’m so _wet_. Can you help me? Don’t take your gloves off.” And Obi-Wan looks down at Anakin’s stretched hole, just begging for further attention, and almost timidly slides two fingers inside him, looking at Anakin to gauge his reaction.

“How’s that, dear one?” Obi-Wan asks, but the pleasure on Anakin’s face should’ve been enough, the way Anakin spreads his legs even wide apart should’ve been enough to tell Obi-Wan that he is on the right track.

“Oh god, it’s good, Obi-Wan. Can you...can you feed some of it to me?” Anakin sounds almost afraid, nervous to voice his desires, but Obi-Wan stretches his gloved fingers as far as they can go inside Anakin, and pulls them out before raising his hand to Anakin’s lips.

“Open wide, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, and Anakin immediately parts his full lips so Obi-Wan can push his fingers into his mouth. Obi-Wan looks down at the bite mark on the inside of Anakin’s right elbow, and sees it’s already fading to a pink scar. He lets Anakin slide his tongue between his fingers as he parts them a bit within his mouth, and Anakin moans around them, his voice wanton and his eyelids fluttering shut for a mere moment. Obi-Wan pulls his fingers from Anakin’s mouth and runs his hands down Anakin’s sides, feeling each of his ribs before squeezing his waist.

“Oh, I feel so perfect. I can feel your cum dripping out of me. Make me come again, Obi-Wan. Can you make me come with your hands? Put your fingers inside me and stroke my cock at the same time? Can you do that?” Anakin sounds utterly eager, and Obi-Wan files away this interest in leather gloves to be explored at a later date.

“It would be my pleasure, darling,” Obi-Wan says, and he moves away from Anakin to retrieve the lubricant before slicking up Anakin’s cock with one hand and sliding two fingers of the other inside him.

“That’s so good, Obi-Wan. You always make me feel so good. Make me come all over myself. I know you want to watch me.” And Anakin’s voice is so sure, it makes Obi-Wan smile, a small, private thing, as he touches him, as he slides a third finger inside him and curls all three of them, as he quickens the pace of his hand with Anakin’s keening. Obi-Wan knows that Anakin will haunt him, that this night will haunt him, that he will never be free of it. And he has never been so enthused about the idea of being a captive. Anakin is squirming a little under his hands, and Obi-Wan looks into his heavy-lidded eyes.

“Do you like that, Anakin? My sweet, sweet Anakin. You’re here forever now, my love. Mine to have and to hold, until the end of time.” Obi-Wan speaks and Anakin whimpers as he does so, his mouth falling open and hanging slack as he watches Obi-Wan work.

“Obi-Wan, don’t stop...don’t stop, you’re gonna make me come. I can’t keep—I can’t keep watching you touch me like that without coming. I wish I could watch you do that forever...Keep going, just a little—ah!” And as Obi-Wan curls his fingers one more time, as he brushes his thumb over the head of Anakin’s cock, Anakin nearly convulses just as he had during his transformation, and then he’s coming on himself, whining and squirming and reaching an arm out to grab one of Obi-Wan’s wrists. Obi-Wan touches him through it, pumping his fingers in and out slowly, stroking Anakin’s cock gently until Anakin stops shaking and seems to return to the real world. Obi-Wan swipes the fingers of one hand through the mess on Anakin’s chest and stomach and brings his hand to his mouth, licking at his fingers as Anakin watches with wide eyes. Obi-Wan swallows a taste that is distinctly different than human and grins.

“Welcome to eternal life, my wild rose.”

\---

June 1522

“So...you know what I am?” Obi-Wan asks, having a harder time than usual staying calm, afraid that regardless of any spell he may have used, his crimson eyes will show through. Anakin stands in front of him in the library, arms folded across his chest, a look of harsh determination in his eyes. He looks like someone who’s never lost a war, and it terrifies Obi-Wan in a way that draws him ever closer.

“How could I not know what you are? I don’t need to list signs or proof to you, Obi-Wan. We both know I’m right. The sooner you admit it, the sooner you’ll see I’m not seeking to harm you.” Anakin sounds kind now, and the kindness seeps into Obi-Wan’s heart like something he’d like to call a disease but is more akin to medicine.

“If you know what I am, surely you won’t mind spending the night, if you’re so interested,” Obi-Wan says, bowing slightly. If this human cannot be convinced to leave, Obi-Wan will simply kill him. From his attire, he’s clearly a peasant, someone who would not be sorely missed. And now as Obi-Wan is standing up straight and looking into Anakin’s eyes, he sees Anakin looks...happy.

“I would love to stay! I suppose you have a spare room?” Anakin is blushing now, and Obi-Wan almost wants to tell him they’ll have to share a bed, just to fluster him. But he doesn’t, because the thought of that makes his mind restless as well.

“Let me show you to your quarters, Skywalker,” Obi-Wan says, and he offers Anakin his arm as they turn to exit the library.

\---

In the wee hours of the morning, Obi-Wan sneaks into Anakin’s room. He intends to get things over with quickly. A swift bite to the neck, a good meal—he hasn’t had one in months—and then a quick discarding of the body. He creeps up beside Anakin’s bed and looks down on him, sleeping in a thin undershirt. He finds himself wondering if he’s wearing pants, then shakes his head quickly to banish the thoughts that cloud his mind. He regards Anakin for a moment. He really does look quite angelic, if one thinks of the more modern archetypes of angels. His dirty blond hair spread out behind his head, his long lashes just touching the tops of his cheeks, and his full lips slightly parted as he breathes. Resigning himself to being the master of Anakin’s fate, Obi-Wan leans in.

“ _Obi-Wan_.” His name. His name, softly uttered by this peasant boy who came to him tonight. His name, sounding like a prayer from the lips of one far too holy to be uttering it. Obi-Wan shudders as he hears it again.

“Obi-Wan.” It’s no easier to hear the second time, and now...now Anakin is moving. Obi-Wan can see his hips canting slightly upwards under the blankets that cover him. Now Anakin is whimpering, and Obi-Wan can’t take it any longer. He leans into Anakin’s neck and opens his mouth.

He plants a kiss there.

“ _Anakin_.”

“Obi-Wan?” This voice sounds very much awake. Groggy, but awake. Obi-Wan withdraws immediately as if burned with holy fire, straightening into a stiff stance as Anakin sits up in bed. His shirt slips off one shoulder, and Obi-Wan can smell his blood from where he stands, pumping through his veins like liquid temptation.

“Anakin, yes, I was—”

“I know what you were doing, Obi-Wan. Don’t worry, I forgive you.” And Anakin smiles in the dim light of the still-lit candles scattered around the room.

“Forgive them, for they know not what they do…” Obi-Wan mutters, a strange sense of guilt creeping over him. Anakin looks puzzled.

“What?” Anakin yawns and rubs his eyes, apparently attempting to grow more awake.

“They say that Jesus, the god of the Christians, after he had been scourged and tormented, as he hung, nailed to a cross, called upon God to forgive those Roman soldiers, even as they continued to abuse him...you, Anakin. You are far closer to divine than you know.” Obi-Wan speaks as if he’s just seen a ghost, remembering days of emperors and sandaled feet and dusty roads.

“Well, I already said I forgave you, so there’s no need to compare me to Jesus. I think that might be a bit blasphemous.” And Anakin laughs softly now, a sound that blankets the room with its warmth. Obi-Wan takes Anakin’s hand and kneels before the bed.

“Anakin, in my haste to keep things the way they were, I have almost snuffed out the very thing which would be my salvation. You must leave, now. For both of us.” Obi-Wan looks up at Anakin imploringly, and Anakin looks down at him with something akin to adoration in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Obi-Wan, but I can’t do that. I’m not going back. The few times I’ve seen you, I have only wanted to be in your presence, and now that I have you, I will not go back. I will die by your hand or live by your side.” Anakin looks utterly serious, with no hint of a joke in his eyes. Obi-Wan stands.

“You mean to become a vampire. You mean to tempt me into turning you,” Obi-Wan says, and he feels a coldness seeping through him.

“What I mean is to know you. Nothing more. Will you at least allow me the chance?” Anakin sounds meek now, the meekest he’s ever sounded, and Obi-Wan sighs a deep sigh.

“Very well. I will give you one year. Is that satisfactory?” He looks down at Anakin, who now has an expression of excitement across his face, written there as clearly as if it had been in ink.

“Yes, yes, and I know you’ll change your mind about me. I know you’ll let me stay longer,” Anakin says, his voice close to arrogance. Obi-Wan sighs again.

“I doubt it, Anakin.”

\---

June 1523

“Are you going to make me leave? Are you going to _kill me_?” Anakin wiggles up against Obi-Wan, his hair tousled, his body littered with bruises and thin scrapes that can only have come from fangs.

“Anakin, don’t say such things. You know how much has changed between us. You are my Savior, my salvation, my very soul. Do not mock my past stupidity.” But despite himself, Obi-Wan smiles as Anakin throws a leg over him possessively. 

“It’s always so dark in here. I sometimes miss the sun,” Anakin continues, but he’s starting to grind up against Obi-Wan again and Obi-Wan welcomes it.

“Mmm, how about I make you forget the sun even exists?” Obi-Wan mumbles, extricating himself from Anakin’s hold and flipping Anakin onto his back, spreading his legs and letting his eyes wander to Anakin’s stretched and used hole as Anakin whimpers, the sound soft and fragile, like a butterfly that will only live for one day.

“ _Please_ , Obi-Wan,” Anakin begs, and he pushes down against Obi-Wan as Obi-Wan starts lapping at his entrance, a pleased sigh leaving his mouth.

\---

September 1533

“Get away from me,” Anakin snarls, and he whips his hand out of Obi-Wan’s reach as Obi-Wan attempts to take it in his own. He smells of fresh blood, and Obi-Wan works hard to keep his senses from overtaking him and turning him into the basest form of what he is. 

“Anakin, I only want to help. I _understand_ —”

“ _You_ could never understand. You only see humans as cattle, uninteresting until it comes time to feast. You don’t remember what it’s like to see them as anything else. I’ve made an awful mistake, one I should be damned for.” Anakin’s voice breaks now, as if it cannot hold itself up under the weight of his supposed sin.

“Anakin.” Obi-Wan reaches out to Anakin and Anakin bares his teeth, like a cornered beast.

“I don’t want to hear _anything_ from you. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be like this. This wouldn’t be happening. Why weren’t you merciful that first night? Why didn’t you just _kill me_?” Anakin sounds close to sobbing, and his voice grows rougher with every word that leaves his mouth, as if his own speech is painful to him.

“Anakin, you are my Messiah, my salvation; you mean absolutely everything to me. Even then, I knew that I could not truly hurt you. The flames of eternal damnation surrounding you are but within your mind. Come, walk with me and we will discuss this.” Obi-Wan begins to walk past Anakin, hoping he will follow, but Anakin grabs Obi-Wan’s shoulder and wrenches him around so he’s pinned up against the stone wall of the corridor.

“You _would_ say that. Obi-Wan Kenobi, always quoting scripture. Always placing divinity wherever he wants to see it to distract from the fact that he is _damned_ , forever, unreachable to anything holy. I was never your Savior. I was only your plaything.” Anakin digs his elbow into Obi-Wan’s chest as he speaks, as if he could dig out Obi-Wan’s heart and cast it aside, never again to regard it with care. Obi-Wan sighs, but he feels anger growing within him slowly at Anakin’s words.

“Go on, say it. Say what’s on your mind, Obi-Wan. Tell me I’ve done nothing wrong. Tell me I made the right choice deciding to become like you. I knew _nothing_ when I knocked on these doors. And now I’ll never even sit in the light of another sunrise—”

“Don’t play that game with me, Anakin,” Obi-Wan snaps, cutting him off. “You knew very well what I was and what would happen if you wanted to stay with me. I was not some skulking predator and you some fawning virgin. We both made our choices.”

“I’m beginning to think I chose _wrong_ ,” Anakin says, and the words sound as if they were pulled from him without his consent, because he ducks his head down now and begins to sob into Obi-Wan’s chest. Obi-Wan lets him sit there for a few seconds before reaching around and placing a hand on his back, intending to pull him close within the dim light of the corridor. But Anakin stiffens and backs away, shaking his head at Obi-Wan.

“Dear one, let me hold you—”

“Obi-Wan, I will _never_ forgive myself for what I’ve done. I did not realize what I was asking for when I wanted to be like you. Let me leave you.” And Anakin whips around, running off into the darkness of the corridor.

Obi-Wan reaches a hand out after him as if it would halt Anakin’s passage into the darkness. Obi-Wan takes a step forward, and then back again, knowing he wants to pursue Anakin but afraid to make things infinitely worse. All Obi-Wan knows is that his Savior has wrenched himself from Obi-Wan’s hands, has driven daggers of ice into his still heart with his words, and Obi-Wan feels strangely numb. This is what he deserves, after all. He is damned, just as Anakin said. He doesn’t deserve to be graced with the presence of someone as holy as Anakin, still divine even after his choice of damnation. And yet… And yet he craves Anakin’s presence enough to continue to seek it, even now. He makes his decision.

  
  
  
  
  



	3. maturation

September 1533

Obi-Wan walks into the darkness after Anakin, mouthing his name once as if in prayer, hoping his Savior will return to him. He follows the scent of blood until he reaches the sumptuous bedroom he and Anakin share. Anakin is kneeling in front of a wooden chest, pulling clothes out of it.

“Anakin, what on earth are you doing? We’re in the middle of a conversation; this is no time to be reorganizing,” Obi-Wan says, hoping to find some humor in the situation. Anakin laughs, and it’s a bitter, thin thing, wrenched out of his throat unwillingly.

“I’m not reorganizing, Obi-Wan. I’m _leaving_.” Anakin grabs another pair of pants and places them beside him on the floor.

“Oh no, you’re not. You’re staying right here. At least until tomorrow night when your head is clearer. Put the clothes away, Anakin. Don’t do this.” At Obi-Wan’s words, Anakin rises to his feet angrily and points at Obi-Wan.

“You’re going to keep me locked up here like a maiden in a tower? I don’t think so. You can stay here with your books and your gods of old, but I’m leaving. I can’t stand the thought of being here for another second,” Anakin says, but even as he says it, his voice cracks and wavers with seeming indecision. Obi-Wan closes the distance between them and wraps an arm around Anakin’s neck, threading his fingers through the hair at the back of Anakin’s head and tugging slightly.

“You’re going to stay because you know you want to stay, and so do I,” Obi-Wan says, and he tugs on Anakin’s hair harder. Anakin lets out a moan, then abruptly closes his mouth, and Obi-Wan smiles at him.

“Did you like that, my wild rose?” Obi-Wan asks, and Anakin nods slightly before his face twists into a grimace.

“You’re always trying to do that. Always trying to make things better by making me feel good. That won’t work tonight, Obi-Wan.” 

Anakin breaks free of Obi-Wan’s embrace before he storms past him and out into the corridor. He’s headed for the library. Obi-Wan can tell because Anakin is no longer making an effort to mask the sound of his footsteps, which echo in the corridor like omens of doom as Obi-Wan makes to follow him.

It doesn’t take long for him to catch up to Anakin. He finds him in the library as he knew he would, observing the shelves of books that Obi-Wan has collected. Obi-Wan watches as Anakin rips a book from its place on the shelf and starts flipping through, far too fast to be reading anything. Anakin looks up at Obi-Wan and glares.

“Is your plaything not allowed to use the library?” Anakin sneers. He drops the book on the floor with no care, as if discarding something absolutely worthless. Obi-Wan feels something twist inside him, something old and foul. He’s not been angry like this for an age. 

“You are allowed to use the library whenever you wish, but for someone who claims to be my plaything, you certainly aren’t being very agreeable.” Obi-Wan keeps his voice as measured as possible, but he knows Anakin can tell he’s furious by the slight nuance to his voice. Anakin grins, but it’s more of a baring of teeth than anything. He walks closer to Obi-Wan until their faces are mere inches apart and Obi-Wan can feel Anakin’s breath fanning across his lips as Anakin speaks.

“Then what should I do, as your plaything? Do you want me to undress and get on all fours and whine for you to stick your cock in me? That’s what you want, isn’t it? You only turned me because you feared breaking me and having to clean up a mess.” Anakin smirks now, and Obi-Wan feels how addictingly potent his anger is as it rushes through him, as Anakin’s very facial expression causes rage to fill his mind. But he inhales deeply and tries to remain stable.

“Maybe, if you were a good plaything, you’d be a little tidier. Go pick that book up.” Obi-Wan crosses his arms over his chest as Anakin laughs at him, Anakin’s voice sharp and cutting.

“That would be the first thing on your mind, wouldn’t it? Always so worried about keeping your silly little treasures,” Anakin says, and he makes no move to retrieve the book. Obi-Wan feels his anger threatening to consume him, but this is his Anakin, his Savior. Surely there must be some agreement they can reach.

“Anakin, we’re devolving into a petty argument that will solve nothing at hand. Put the book away and we will discuss what happened, I promise.” 

As Obi-Wan speaks, Anakin backs away from him and walks over to the bookshelf. He pulls two more books out, and drops them on the floor, giggling maniacally as he does so.

“See how much fun your plaything is having. Maybe if you didn’t want a mess, you shouldn’t have built me up in your mind into something I’m not.” Anakin sounds as though he’s attempting to appear callously acerbic, but his voice is quaking slightly. Obi-Wan can’t take it anymore and he surges forward, pinning Anakin to the bookshelf and feeling surprise flood his senses as heat pools in his stomach at Anakin’s wide eyes. But he supposes he shouldn’t have been surprised. A strange kind of desire is racing through him, a desire to take Anakin right here, to show him exactly how deeply he worships him. He leans in to kiss up the side of Anakin’s neck, and, miracle of miracles, Anakin moans and leans into it.

“I remember the first night you stayed here. I remember pressing my lips to your neck, feeling your pulse against my mouth, and only whispering _Anakin_ against your skin. You are my Messiah, Anakin, my end and my beginning. Let me worship you, even if it is to be a goodbye of sorts.” Obi-Wan pulls away to find Anakin staring at him with want in his eyes, and he reaches a hand out to brush his thumb over Anakin’s plush bottom lip.

“Take me, Obi-Wan,” Anakin says. “Fuck your pretty little plaything before he leaves you forever. Because when I go, you will not follow.” Anakin wraps an arm around Obi-Wan’s waist, and then he’s surging forward to kiss him, his mouth already open against Obi-Wan’s.

“Make me remember you. Make it so when I leave here, I’ll always wish I could’ve been your Savior,” Anakin breathes against Obi-Wan’s lips, and then his tongue is sliding into Obi-Wan’s mouth, hot and wet and urgent, and Obi-Wan wraps his arms around Anakin’s neck, pulling at his hair, making Anakin’s breath come in small gasps as he pants into Obi-Wan’s mouth as if he could draw the breath of life from Obi-Wan’s lungs.

“Get on the table, Anakin. Undress and lie down for me. It’s not quite an altar, but we’ll make it holy some way. Come now, little plaything. Don’t keep me waiting,” Obi-Wan says, and Anakin backs away a little bit before beginning to shed his clothes.

“Something holy is nothing for a plaything, Obi-Wan. Take me on the floor. I want you to fuck me like there’s not a single shred of anything holy within me. Because there isn’t. I’m rotten and damned, just like you are. Just make me feel good one last time.” And Anakin sheds his clothing, casting aside his boots, and walks a little distance away from Obi-Wan, lying back on the floor, starting to stroke his cock with one hand as he spreads his long legs. Obi-Wan wastes no time in undressing and grabbing the vial of lubricant on the table nearby, thanking whatever deities may or may not exist that he’s made a habit of keeping such things in every major room of the castle. Perhaps Anakin simply needs a bit of affection to convince him of the error of his beliefs.

Obi-Wan kneels between Anakin’s legs and hands him the vial. “Wherever you are in that mind of yours, Anakin, I’m waiting for you to return. I would not worship you if you were not the holiest thing I know.” 

Anakin grimaces as he takes Obi-Wan’s hand in his and slicks up both his and Obi-Wan’s fingers, sliding them together, intertwining them in a mockery of the many times their hands have been joined. “If I am the holiest thing you know, I’m afraid you’ve had a poor exposure to that which is sacred,” Anakin says, and he hisses as he begins to stroke his cock again, his face fighting to keep itself from falling an expression of pleasure. But when Obi-Wan spreads Anakin’s legs further and slides one slick finger inside him, Anakin inhales sharply and closes his eyes for a minute.

“Make it go away, Anakin. All this space between us feels as if it were leagues though I know we are close enough to share air. I am calling out to you, Anakin. I am pleading with you to stay with me. What would you have me do?” Obi-Wan feels a frenzy of desperation growing within him like a starving beast who’s being taunted with the promise of sustenance. He slides a second finger into Anakin and Anakin squirms a bit.

“I cannot make it disappear, Obi-Wan. I’m giving you control one last time. If you love me so much, the least you can do is please me in this way,” Anakin says. And as Obi-Wan pumps his fingers in and out, spreading them apart to acclimate Anakin to the stretch, he feels this desperation roaring within him like a trapped lion, demanding to be given control of the situation. So Obi-Wan curls his fingers within Anakin and rubs against that perfect spot inside him.

“Oh, Obi-Wan, what are you _doing_ ?” Anakin asks, and he starts to writhe as Obi-Wan doesn’t stop rubbing against that spot within him. “Why...why aren’t you stopping? _Fuck_ , that feels _too good_ , Obi-Wan. Don’t...don’t stop,” Anakin says, his voice growing high pitched as he tries to grind against Obi-Wan’s fingers. So Obi-Wan withdraws.

“You want to be my plaything, so I’m playing with you. I’m investigating what pretty noises you can make when I touch you. I can’t wait to see what happens when I pin you down,” Obi-Wan says, speaking as casually as if he were discussing the moonlight on a clear night. 

“Pin me down? We both know you couldn’t overpower me if you tried,” Anakin says, but he doesn’t quite sneer, not when Obi-Wan’s fingers are moving within him again. He looks at Obi-Wan with wide eyes, as if he were a creature filled with curiosity. Obi-Wan leans over Anakin now, not quite whispering in his ear, but looking down upon him with a look he knows is imperious.

“I’m going to pin you down because you’re going to _allow it_ , my wild rose, and you’re going to writhe under me, pinned to the floor, taking my cock like a good little plaything, begging for more as I move within you. You will give me control because you choose to, not because I take it from you.” And Obi-Wan watches the movement of Anakin’s throat as he swallows heavily, considering his options. Then Anakin smirks up at Obi-Wan as if he were the one on top.

“Alright, I’m going to allow you to pin me down. But this will still be the last time, and you will not insult me with your blasphemous lies about my holiness. Do you understand?” And Anakin gasps a little as Obi-Wan takes the opportunity to slide a third finger inside him.

“Very well, my little midnight bloom. I will respect your wishes. Now be a good plaything for me and stop touching yourself. I want you to pay attention to what I’m doing to you.” As Obi-Wan speaks, Anakin’s hand falls away from his cock, and Obi-Wan watches as Anakin closes his eyes and breathes in deeply, likely trying to savor the moment, the feeling of Obi-Wan’s fingers stretching him out, preparing him for something greater. And as Anakin tries to keep his breathing measured, as his hands scrabble at the stone floor for purchase, for a crack to grasp perhaps, or a small gap to lodge his fingers in, and he finds nothing, he lets a small, pitiful whine out, and Obi-Wan revels in it, thinking perhaps his Anakin has returned.

“Get on with it, Obi-Wan,” Anakin grits out, and Obi-Wan removes his fingers from Anakin before slicking up his cock and aligning it with Anakin’s entrance. He leans over Anakin now, feeling a great deal like a gracious god of old, intoxicated with the urgency of keeping Anakin around, of convincing him of his place in Obi-Wan’s existence.

“Do you want it, little plaything of mine? Tell me how much you want it. Tell your _Lord_ why he should fuck you,” Obi-Wan says, feeling a sense of majesty rush over him like a great wave as he speaks. But Anakin snarls at him, reaching up to wrap his arms around Obi-Wan’s neck and trying to push back against him. Never one to resist Anakin, Obi-Wan slides his cock inside him in one motion, making Anakin cry out into the air of the library.

“How about you fuck me so that when I’ve already left and I’m writhing on someone else’s cock, I’ll think of you for a moment and wonder if I made a mistake?” And Anakin tries to smile, but he must see the rage and hurt in Obi-Wan’s eyes, because he opens his mouth again, stuttering, “I—I mean—”

But Obi-Wan is already pulling out of him, already numbly fetching his clothes and pulling his pants on as Anakin lies stretched out and ready on the floor. At any other time, the image of Anakin with his legs spread like that would have drawn Obi-Wan in like the fresh blood of a willing victim, but now Obi-Wan feels nothing but anger roiling beneath his skin.

“Obi-Wan, I’m sorry. I didn’t—” But Obi-Wan holds up his hand in a swift, stern motion as Anakin speaks, prompting Anakin to actually follow a request and fall silent.

“I need time. You crossed a line, Anakin, and I cannot play along with you anymore.”

\---

September 1524

“I fear only one thing, Anakin: that you should leave me one day,” Obi-Wan speaks to the moonlit air of his gardens as Anakin all but skips around, weaving a garland of flowers. 

“And I fear only one thing, Obi-Wan: that you should watch me leave.” Anakin throws the garland over Obi-Wan’s neck, laughing softly. Obi-Wan sits down in the middle of a patch of grass, and Anakin’s eyes light up immediately as he straddles his lap, pulling his shift up over his head and throwing it aside before starting to grind against him like nothing else in the world means anything beyond passing fancy.

“Anakin, what are you trying to accomplish?” Obi-Wan asks as Anakin’s breaths grow heavy and he begins to whisper Obi-Wan’s name into the clear air

“I’m so hard for you, Obi-Wan. Oh god, I need you to _take me_. I’m dripping all over you; I’m sorry.” But as Anakin speaks, he doesn’t look sorry at all, and Obi-Wan looks down to see Anakin’s cock, hard and leaking onto his lap as Anakin pants, his mouth now on Obi-Wan’s neck as he whimpers.

“Those who say the Virgin Mary is the most beautiful thing in the world are clearly uninformed, my dear, for it is you who possesses beauty beyond measure.” Obi-Wan hears Anakin gasp at the praise and he reaches his hands out to grip Anakin’s hips.

“ _Fuck_ , I need you Obi-Wan. I need your cock inside me. I’m already so ready for you. I fingered myself open before we came out into the garden. Feel how open I am, just for you.” And as Anakin finishes speaking, he sucks on Obi-Wan’s neck, leaves open-mouthed kisses there, grinding against him and whining as his dripping cock makes a mess of Obi-Wan’s lap.

“You’ll get what you need, my wild rose. Perhaps you need to take it for yourself. Nobody is stopping you from coming,” Obi-Wan says, and he reaches behind Anakin with one hand to discover that Anakin is indeed stretched and lubricated, ready to be taken by him. The thought of Anakin readying himself in such a way before dressing in his plain white shift has Obi-Wan shuddering against Anakin’s hold, and Anakin must sense it. Obi-Wan brings his hand back to Anakin’s hip to hold him firmly in place as Anakin continues to squirm.

“Bite me, Obi-Wan. Don’t turn me yet, but feed on me. Just try, just try a little bit. I know we’ll both love it. Just once, _please_.” And Anakin stops his kissing of Obi-Wan’s throat to bare his own neck, pointing to the juncture of throat and shoulder with a plea in his eyes.

Obi-Wan can’t resist. He leans in to place his mouth on Anakin’s skin, scraping his fangs against it. Then he bites, as gently and swiftly as he can.

“Oh god, oh _fuck_ , that’s good,” Anakin cries out as he starts to writhe in Obi-Wan’s lap, his cock dripping more precum. But Obi-Wan can hardly care about that when the most delectable taste is filling his mouth, the sweet richness of Anakin’s blood on his tongue as Anakin pants and whimpers in pleasure. He drinks it in slowly, intent on savoring it, for he cannot drink too deeply.

“I feel so good, oh, that’s perfect…” Anakin trails off as Obi-Wan withdraws, kissing the spot where he’d bitten and watching as small beads of blood well up where his fangs had punctured Anakin’s skin. Anakin is still shivering atop him like a leaf just barely hanging onto its branch in the wind, so he squeezes his hips, making Anakin let out a long, whiny sound.

“Someone is _very_ needy today, aren’t you, my little Savior?” Obi-Wan asks as Anakin keeps grinding down on him, seeking the proper angle. Anakin’s face is already falling into a blissful expression as he seeks out his pleasure. “How about you just take your pleasure this way, and let me watch?”

Anakin shakes his head vigorously. “No, no, _no_ , Obi-Wan. You don’t understand. I’ve wanted you to bite me for so long. It’s...a fantasy for me, and now that you’ve done it, I need _more_. I feel so empty. I need your cock inside me. You haven’t fucked me since yesterday, Obi-Wan. I need you.” Anakin sounds desperate, as if he’s on the cusp of finding the thing most important to him, but keeps getting denied. Obi-Wan smiles before lifting Anakin and placing him on the ground, rearranging them so that Anakin is on his back in the grass and Obi-Wan is on top of him, looking down. Obi-Wan grips Anakin’s wrists and pins them to the ground, attempting to stop Anakin’s squirming.

“Oh fuck, _yes_ , pin me down, Obi-Wan. I need your cock. I need it so bad. I only need you, Obi-Wan, nobody else. I’ll never run to anyone else. It’s you, it’s always you. It’ll always be you,” Anakin says, and he sounds as if he’s uttering prayers rather than speaking casual words in a moonlit garden. Obi-Wan leans down to kiss his cheek as he slips two fingers inside him.

“I know, Anakin. I know.”

\---

October 1533

Obi-Wan senses Anakin enter the castle. Hears the doors thud shut. Hears Anakin’s footsteps as they echo through the corridors. But he does not move from where he sits on his, their, bed. If Anakin has come back to berate Obi-Wan for his attitude towards him during their argument, he will be right to do so. Obi-Wan knows that much. So he stays as still as only a vampire can be and waits for Anakin to reach him. He knows he only has a handful of seconds before he sees Anakin’s godlike face and remember what exactly it is that he has lost—

“Obi-Wan.” Anakin’s voice travels through the air of Obi-Wan and Anakin’s bedroom, where Obi-Wan sits, staring at the wall.

“Yes, Anakin?” Obi-Wan speaks the words hopefully. It has been a month since that night. A month since Anakin left. A month since he watched Anakin go and knew it was for the best. Now Anakin has returned, and the silence stretches between them as he waits for Anakin to reply.

“May I come in?” Anakin asks, sounding more timid than Obi-Wan has ever heard him, more unsure than even when he was a frail human.

“You may.” Obi-Wan hears Anakin walk into the room, his footsteps echoing softly against the stone. Obi-Wan looks up at him, feeling a bit unsure. Anakin is rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, looking at Obi-Wan rather sheepishly.

“Can I…” Anakin trails off, his voice growing very quiet. Obi-Wan smiles softly.

“Sit beside me? Of course, Anakin. You will always be welcome by my side in whatever manner you wish to be welcomed in. You are still my Savior, even if I have had to learn your imperfections,” Obi-Wan says, and Anakin barks out a harsh laugh as he sits beside Obi-Wan.

“Imperfections? That is what you think they are? Obi-Wan, I have killed people needlessly. That night, I nearly killed a man I once knew. I am hardly a Savior, and I have treated you unacceptably. I have taken advantage of your feelings for me and made a mockery of them with my words. I doubt you will ever forgive me, but I returned because I believe you deserve an apology.” And through Anakin’s words, Obi-Wan can hear his voice is close to breaking.

“If you think I deserve an apology, I believe you deserve one as well. I placed you on a pedestal, called you my Savior and expected you to be perfect because I saw you as such. I brushed off your terror and anger at what you had done that night because I assumed you would see humans as I do, and because of that, you felt more alone than you would have had I not been present. I am the one who cannot be forgiven, Anakin, and I do not presume to think you would forgive me.” Obi-Wan finds _himself_ closer to breaking than he thought he’d be after uttering his short speech, and he hopes Anakin does not sense it.

“We are the most twisted of all things. We once were God’s children and now we feed on those innocent children. We can never be forgiven,” Anakin says bleakly. “But I forgive you,” Anakin says, conviction written clearly in his voice.

“And I forgive you, Anakin,” says Obi-Wan, and he reaches out a hand, placing it on Anakin’s knee. Anakin tenses up, and Obi-Wan begins to withdraw, believing he’s offended Anakin, but then Anakin places his own hand atop Obi-Wan’s.

“I thought you’d never touch me again,” Anakin whispers, and his voice is cloven in two by a sob that wracks his body.

Obi-Wan turns to look at Anakin now, saying, “Oh, my dearest Anakin, there is no world in which I would not want to touch you.” And he brings his other hand up to Anakin’s face to cup his cheek. Anakin leans into it as if he’s never been touched before, and his lips part as he sighs.

“Anakin, I want you, I want you dearly, but there are things we must discuss. I have apologized to you, and you to me, but we must ensure the likes of that argument never happens again. To begin, I will say I am sorry I ever went along with the idea that you were only my plaything, in any way, and I will never do it again, regardless of how angry I become,” Obi-Wan says, and he brushes his thumb against Anakin’s soft skin, something he’d feared he’d never have the chance to do again. Anakin nods slightly in understanding.

“I agree, Obi-Wan. And I am sorry for the things I said. I know how you were turned and I know why you see people the way you do, and I should never have attacked you for that. I should have never threatened to run to someone else, as well. You know I never would. It’s you. It’s always been you. It’ll always be you. I should never have even tried to make you believe anything else, and I will _never_ do that again,” Anakin promises, and Obi-Wan can’t help but squeeze Anakin’s knee at his declaration. Anakin is so good.

“It’s been so long, Obi-Wan. You don’t know how much I’ve missed you,” Anakin says, and he guides Obi-Wan’s hand from his knee up to his thigh, his hand shaking as he does so. Obi-Wan lets himself be guided, and he trails the hand touching Anakin’s cheek down to his neck, touching the soft skin there, playing around with the edges of Anakin’s collar.

“Do you want this, Anakin? Do you want me to take you tonight?” Obi-Wan asks, and Anakin stands abruptly, and begins to peel off the layers of his clothing.

“Obi-Wan, I _need_ this. I need you. Please, give me what I need,” Anakin says, undressing as quickly as he possibly can. And the image of Anakin’s golden skin revealed inch by inch in the dim candlelight, the sound of his soft breath growing more ragged by the second, has Obi-Wan standing up and beginning to undress as well. Anakin smiles at him, his face absolutely heavenly in the low light, and Obi-Wan can only wonder how he survived a month without seeing his face.

As they sit down together on the bed and Obi-Wan grabs the vial of lubricant from the night table, Anakin looks at him and speaks.

“I want to drink from you. And I want you to drink from me,” Anakin says, surety lacing through his voice

“Why?” Obi-Wan asks, though, in his heart, he already hopes for a very specific answer.

“I’ve been looking into what I am, what _we_ are. I’ve heard that if two vampires drink from each other, they...become one, they say. They’re...a bonded pair, they call it. It makes them far more dangerous in battle, because they are connected. Some myths say they can hear each other’s thoughts if they try hard enough.” Anakin looks hopeful now, and Obi-Wan reaches out to stroke his cheek.

“It’s true, my little rose. If you and I drink from each other tonight, we shall become bonded, forever, as long as the two of us exist. But that means if one of us is killed, it shall be the same for the other. Like Adam and Eve, we will not be parted from one another until death parts us forever,” Obi-Wan says, and he sees Anakin’s face fall.

“So...there is no Heaven for us? No hope beyond this life?” Anakin asks, and it sounds as though he is trying very hard to come to terms with his own words. Obi-Wan shakes his head.

“You know this, my wild rose. I have told you before that no afterlife will open its gates to us, if there is an afterlife at all. Perhaps it is all a dream conjured by humans to convince others to act in certain ways. I did not see whether Lazarus was raised or whether it was all a trick. I would like to believe in the divine, Anakin, but I’m afraid I have only one small bit of proof that this world is anything but mundane.” 

“What is that, Obi-Wan?” Anakin asks as he lies back against the pillows and the wine red blankets, like a gift just waiting to be sampled.

“You, Anakin. If there is divinity in this world, it exists within your eyes. It exists within your heart, which shall never beat again, though some days I selfishly wish it would, just so I could hear it. It exists within the way you smile, the way you touch me, the way you offered yourself up to me that night and the way you offer yourself up to me yet again tonight. You _are_ the divine, Anakin, and you always have been.” And Obi-Wan crawls over Anakin, slicking up his fingers.

“I love you, Obi-Wan,” Anakin says, and his eyes are wide, and if they were still blue, Obi-Wan could swear they’d sparkle like the first stars after twilight. But the warmth in his expression, the devotion in his eyes, and the slight awe at Obi-Wan’s absolute worship of him is just as vibrant as it was when he was a tender human.

“I love you, Anakin.”

\---

  
  


December 1525

“I told you, Anakin, you are free to worship as you wish, but I will not be joining you,” Obi-Wan says, and he watches as Anakin’s face turns from an expression of hope to an expression of somewhat hurt curiosity, like the seasons changing upon his very face.

“Will you tell me why?” Anakin asks, and he takes Obi-Wan’s hand in his own and leads them to the library. Ah, the library. The place for conversation, Obi-Wan thinks. He remains silent until they reach the library and are both seated in simple wooden seats that face each other across a small table.

“Anakin, I do want to believe in the divine, the heavenly, that which is not of this world. I believe there is something in the very makings of our universe that is divine, which is holy, in some way. I even understand why people would worship Jesus of Nazareth as a divine Son of God. I understand that attachment, that willingness to look beyond everyday life and find something that is more than what you are, something worthy of all your worship and prayers. 

“I have found that in you, Anakin. You are my Savior, my Messiah. You are my beginning and end. I see no reason to become greedy and ask for something more. Let me love you for what you are, for who you are, and be content. You may worship as you see fit.” 

Obi-Wan watches as Anakin thoughtfully chews his bottom lip, his brow furrowed in thought. Obi-Wan is afraid he might just have lost Anakin, might have opened the doors to his cage and set him free, but then he remembers that Anakin has always been free. Obi-Wan’s fear of losing him must not become a tether that seeks to bind Anakin.

“Then how do you worship?” Anakin asks, curiosity filling his eyes like fresh water fills an empty pool as he leans over the table towards him, as if Obi-Wan is going to tell him some great secret.

“I worship by walking through the gardens in the moonlight and reminding myself of how lucky I am to touch the leaves of the plants I cultivate. I worship by counting the stars in the sky. I worship by hearing the songs of the birds in the morning, sunlight songs which I will never truly know again. And I worship you, Anakin. I worship you by watching the rise and fall of your breath when you fall asleep in my lap and I carry you back to bed. I worship you by brushing your mussed hair out of your face so I can see your perfect blue eyes, eyes that I know will someday bleed crimson into their irises. And I worship you by kissing you, by touching you, by showing you how I adore every part of you. 

“This worship is more than enough for me, Anakin. I do not need the words of men who would take that which is holy in its purity and twist it into something for their own devices. So please, worship as you will, but allow me what little holiness I see yet in the world.” Obi-Wan hears his voice grow mournful near the end of his speech, and he hangs his head a bit as he hears Anakin shuffle in his seat. Before Obi-Wan knows it, Anakin is standing beside him.

“Move your chair,” Anakin requests, and Obi-Wan moves so his chair is no longer under the table, but is instead facing Anakin. Anakin promptly falls to his knees and buries his head between Obi-Wan’s knees like someone who has just been scolded.

“Anakin, what—”

“I’m sorry, Obi-Wan,” Anakin says, and his voice is muffled, as if it comes from a great way off. But Obi-Wan simply shakes his head lovingly.

“My little Messiah, come out from your hiding place,” Obi-Wan says, and Anakin lifts his head somewhat shyly.

“I’m sorry. I should have seen better. I should have known that you were worshiping all along. I’m just...not very used to this, so I am still learning.” And Anakin wraps his arms around Obi-Wan’s legs as if it would save him from some great horror yet to come in response to his perceived ignorance. But Obi-Wan only smiles and places a hand in Anakin’s hair.

“Oh, my wild rose, coming to me like one known as a harlot came to Jesus so long ago, begging to be forgiven when Jesus held nothing against her. You have done nothing wrong, Anakin. You have simply misunderstood things. Do not tell me all your fire has died out from this. Where is my Anakin?” Obi-Wan asks, and Anakin chuckles a little as he releases Obi-Wan’s legs and looks up at him. He stares at Obi-Wan with an intensity that prompts Obi-Wan to shiver inwardly, the clarity of Anakin’s gaze boring right through him and gazing into his very blackened soul.

“I’m here, Obi-Wan. I think you’ve taught me a thing or two. Now it’s my turn to worship.” And Anakin puts his hands on Obi-Wan’s knees and spreads Obi-Wan’s legs, looking up at him as if the only thing in the world that matters is the chance to please Obi-Wan in this way.

“Anakin—”

“My _Lord_ , what would you have me do?” Anakin asks, and he leans forward to mouth at Obi-Wan’s still clothed cock. Obi-Wan smirks now, and slides his fingers underneath Anakin’s chin so he can tilt his head upwards.

“I would have you worship as you see fit, Anakin.”

\---

October 1533

“Oh god, Obi-Wan that’s perfect...oh god, _please_ ,” Anakin whines as he writhes under Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan tries to hold him firmly in place but Anakin just wiggles out of his hold, his chest heaving and his hole clenching down on Obi-Wan.

“Anakin, you must remain calm for this if you can. I’m going to bite you and feed from you, alright?” Obi-Wan hopes his voice carries a surety within him instead of the slight nervousness he feels in his heart.

“Fuck, just, just get on with it. I’m gonna come if you make me wait much longer,” Anakin whines, and Obi-Wan places his lips on Anakin’s shoulder as he keeps thrusting in and out of him, the intensity of the sensations almost drowning out the urgency of what has to happen here. Anakin is almost warm inside, so wet, so _tight_ , Obi-Wan can scarcely hold himself together as he bites down.

“ _Oh_ , that’s good. God, you’re gonna make me _come_ ,” Anakin whimpers as he moves under Obi-Wan, his body warmer than Obi-Wan even though it could get after his transformation. Perhaps it’s because he’s still such a new creature, but Obi-Wan doesn’t linger on it. He drinks Anakin’s blood as Anakin whines beneath him, his hard cock dripping precum onto his stomach and his hands gripping Obi-Wan’s shoulders as if to hold himself still, failing to do so as Obi-Wan sinks his fangs deeper, savoring the different taste of Anakin’s blood. It’s not quite as sweet as it was when Anakin was a human, and a part of Obi-Wan falls apart like a crumbling building at the thought that he will never taste Anakin as a human again. The thought lingers with him as he pulls away, watching Anakin’s wound close up as all wounds do for a vampire, leaving only a pink scar. Anakin is still panting underneath him, and Obi-Wan turns his attention to his Anakin, to the one who will always have his heart.

“Do you want to try drinking from me?” Obi-Wan asks, and Anakin is nodding before he even speaks.

“I want to, Obi-Wan. Oh, I want to.” And Obi-Wan leans down so Anakin can place his fangs at his shoulder.

“Are you ready to make this final, my wild rose, my last ray of sunshine?” Obi-Wan asks, and he feels Anakin exhale against him shakily, as if it’s the first breath he’s ever taken.

“Yes, Obi-Wan,” Anakin murmurs against Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “I want you to know that I will _always_ want to be bound to you. I always have been, in a way.” And Anakin bites down.

It’s been a long time since Obi-Wan has been bitten, and he winces, though he doesn’t quite pull away. He feels something leaving him, strength, he decides, and he leans into the feeling of giving Anakin _everything_ as he continues to move within him as steadily as he can. Anakin pulls away after a moment, and licks his bloodstained lips, then smiles up at Obi-Wan. And Obi-Wan feels something different begin to seep through his veins. Something ancient and powerful, something he perhaps never should have awakened. But it is too late now. He and Anakin are bound, forever, even if only in their damnation.

“Anakin, do you feel that?” Obi-Wan asks, hoping deeply that this feeling is not something his mind has conjured up. But Anakin is looking up at him now with his eyes glowing crimson in the candlelight and his white fangs gleaming as he smiles.

“I feel it, Obi-Wan. I love you. You are _everything_ to me,” Anakin says, and he strokes Obi-Wan’s shoulders as if Obi-Wan were still fragile enough to break, and somehow that simple motion undoes Obi-Wan. He’s gripping Anakin far too tightly and Anakin is gasping beneath him.

“How could I ever covet those who have Heaven, Anakin? How could I be so misguided when I already have the privilege of looking into your eyes? You are my wild rose, just as we’ve always said, and I—ah! I will care for you until the end of my tragic existence.” Obi-Wan squeezes Anakin tight against him, and Anakin whimpers into his ear like he’s about to break into pieces.

“What would you have me do?” Obi-Wan asks.

“For now, Obi-Wan, just fuck me.” Anakin sounds absolutely ragged, so Obi-Wan pulls almost all the way out of him and thrusts back in, hard. Anakin jolts as if shocked.

“ _Yes_ , right there, right fucking there, Obi-Wan. I can feel everything so much better now. Your hands on my skin, your cock inside me, it’s perfect. Kiss me, Obi-Wan,” Anakin says, and Obi-Wan dips down to kiss him, while Anakin surges upwards to meet him, their mouths open and their breath mingling, Anakin moaning against Obi-Wan’s mouth as their tongues slide together, Obi-Wan thrusting in and out of Anakin at an even pace. As they break apart, Obi-Wan looks down at Anakin lying there, hair splayed behind his head, lips red and wet from kissing, and he sighs, leaning down to touch their noses together.

“God, you’re so beautiful, Anakin. I can’t wait to make you come for me. I’ve missed it,” Obi-Wan breathes, speaking the words as if they’re forbidden. Anakin shivers beneath him, his perfect body shaking as Obi-Wan holds him tenderly.

“I’ve missed coming for you. Make me come for you, Obi-Wan. Can I touch myself? I want to touch myself for you,” Anakin whispers, and the words send a thrill through Obi-Wan’s body, as if this is their first time all over again.

“Touch yourself for me, dear one.” And Obi-Wan watches as Anakin reaches a hand down between his legs and starts stroking his cock. He jolts slightly and looks up at Obi-Wan pleadingly.

“Obi-Wan, I’m so close,” Anakin whimpers, and Obi-Wan holds him tight.

“Come for me, Anakin.”

\---

Lying on his side, propped up on his elbow, Obi-Wan uses his free hand to trace patterns on Anakin’s bare chest as Anakin lies on his back, the bedspread of their bed covering them from the waist down. Obi-Wan sighs as he looks down into Anakin’s crimson eyes that gaze up at him with the pure adoration that Obi-Wan thought he’d never see again. Obi-Wan observes him for a while, lets his eyes roam from the top of Anakin’s tousled curls down to his perfect features, his full lips, the curve of his neck, his golden skin, before moving back up to make eye contact with him. And Anakin’s eyes are _marvelous_ , deep and bright and wonderful, as if colored by a god himself though their color is a symbol of his eternal damnation. 

“Heaven, Anakin. Divinity. It’s in your eyes,” Obi-Wan says.

“That’s very silly, Obi-Wan, but thank you,” Anakin answers, chuckling a little.

“Silly? Oh, dear one, must I be doomed to be called silly when I am simply trying to laud my Savior?” Obi-Wan lets mock offense seep into his tone, but Anakin speaks again.

“Obi-Wan, I have to tell you something important,” Anakin says, looking completely solemn.

“What is it, my wild rose? You must know you can tell me anything,” Obi-Wan promises.

“I went into the sunlight.” Anakin looks utterly serious.

“You what?” Obi-Wan asks, sure this must be some kind of joke.

“I wanted to see if it would burn like you said it would, so one morning I stuck my hand out into the sunlight. Nothing happened,” Anakin says, sounding as if he’s slightly confused himself.

“Anakin…”

“Don’t lecture me, Obi-Wan. I admit it was a foolish decision, but I’m alright, and I discovered I can venture out during the daytime.” Now Anakin sounds very pleased with himself.

Obi-Wan is speechless for a moment, then he leans in closer to Anakin’s face and says, “Dear one, the vampire who could venture out into the rays of the sun has not been seen for an age.” Anakin smirks now.

“Well look at that; you just bonded with someone special,” Anakin teases, and he reaches a hand up to stroke Obi-Wan’s beard.

“Anakin, I didn’t need the sunlight to know that.”

  
\---  
  


May 1522

“There we are, nothing to worry about,” Obi-Wan whispers to himself as he begins his exit of the small town. He’s been successful in stealing everything he desires, and he walks through the town square now. There is a large tree in the center. Quite pretty, he thinks. He takes a moment to stare up at it. Then he sees something. A dark figure sitting in the tree. It must be a human. Lucky for this human, he isn’t hungry tonight. He turns and makes his way back to the castle.

\---

June 1522

“You never did tell me, Anakin. What exactly are you doing here?” Obi-Wan observes Anakin as coldly as he can as Anakin eats the fruit he’d brought himself for breakfast. Anakin appeared at the castle last night and Obi-Wan nearly killed him, but he refrained. That last detail bothers Obi-Wan. It’s wiggling and worming its way into his head like a kind of poison. Why did he let Anakin live? He’s broken out of his dismal reverie by Anakin’s voice.

“I was curious. I’ve seen you before, at night, stealing from the shops in town, and I knew you must be a vampire, because I’ve heard legends of those who can walk silently in the night. So I made my decision.” Anakin looks quite pleased with himself, and he bites into the fruit he’s holding. Obi-Wan looks at him with disbelief.

“So...Anakin...you knew I must be a vampire, and so you sought me out, alone, intending to stay with me if I allowed it? Are you a fool or do you wish to die?” Obi-Wan speaks harshly, but Anakin begins to laugh, and oh, it’s a clear, lovely sound, like happiness contained in the laughter of one young man.

“You’re the fool, Obi-Wan, for thinking you could kill me at all. I know there is good within your heart, even if you do not believe that.” Obi-Wan scoffs at Anakin’s words and crosses his arms over his chest in disagreement, but fondness is starting to grow within him like a tender seedling, and he forces his lips not to curve upwards into a smile.

“Clearly, _you_ are a fool. You are a wild, untouched rose, thinking it will never be plucked, but the gardener is already all too close by,” Obi-Wan says, and he watches Anakin’s eyes grow wide.

“Sometimes the gardener has not come to pluck or to tear out, Obi-Wan. Sometimes a gardener’s job is to care for and to reshape into something new. If I am the rose, and you are the gardener, I do not believe you will choose to destroy me,” Anakin says, and he sounds far wiser than his years would dictate as he smiles and takes another bite of his breakfast.

“Perhaps I do not come to willfully destroy, my wild rose, but what if it is in my nature to tear out that which does not conform to my garden, to my way of life?” Obi-Wan smirks now, feeling that there is no way Anakin can win this argument.

“A gardener who cannot be swayed by any flower is not a gardener at all, only an executioner,” Anakin states, and his face falls a little bit.

“And what if I am that? What if I am no gardener? What if that is what you thought I was, and in setting foot in my garden, you only placed your neck under the executioner’s axe?” Obi-Wan is standing now, his hand gripping the table as he resists the urge to stalk towards Anakin.

“If you are an executioner, I will hold still as your blade kisses my neck. I told you, I have made my choice,” Anakin says, and now Obi-Wan is by Anakin’s side, in Anakin’s face in an instant, tilting his head upwards with one hand.

“You are far too willing for prey with no defense,” Obi-Wan says, squeezing Anakin’s chin hard enough that he knows Anakin must be in slight pain.

“And you are far too self-assured for a predator with weaknesses he does not see,” Anakin bites back.

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes. “Oh, my wild rose, you _will_ perish at my hand.”

“Obi-Wan, you will regret those words,” Anakin says, and his voice is filled with conviction like a Saint about to perish under the cruel hands of his enemies. Obi-Wan barks out a laugh.

“What, you’re going to make me regret them? I severely doubt that, Anakin.” Obi-Wan observes as Anakin’s eyes fill with hope, and it almost makes Obi-Wan sad, because he knows this boy’s fate.

“I will not make you do anything. As I said, I have made my choice. The least you can do is not berate me for it.” And Anakin pulls away from Obi-Wan’s grasp, but Obi-Wan is already leaning over him, his fangs at Anakin’s neck.

“Do you know how difficult it is for me to restrain myself, Anakin? How badly I want to taste you? And you taunt me like this, your blood pulsing through your body like an invitation. I have never met a god as cruel as you,” Obi-Wan murmurs against Anakin’s neck, and he feels Anakin relaxing into his touch, going all but limp under Obi-Wan’s grasp.

“I am not here to taunt you, Obi-Wan. Feed from me if you want. As I said, I made my choice.” Anakin does not sound afraid. He does not sound unsure. He sounds as firm as the foundation of the house that was built upon the rock in the old parable, and Obi-Wan finds himself kissing Anakin’s neck instead of sinking his teeth in.

“Oh god, Obi-Wan…” Anakin moans, and it breaks Obi-Wan out of his trance. Obi-Wan recoils as if burned by the very sunlight he despises so much, and he takes three steps backwards as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, as if to destroy any lingering evidence of Anakin’s skin upon him.

“Obi-Wan—” 

“ _That_ must never happen again,” Obi-Wan says, and he storms out of the dining hall, stomping through the castle corridors until he reaches his quarters. The castle already smells of Anakin, the thick, sweet smell of his blood ever-present in Obi-Wan’s nostrils. He breathes in deep, hoping that indulging in the scent will be enough to sate him. But why would that matter? This boy’s life means nothing to him. A young man of twenty-two perhaps, Anakin Skywalker should be another disposable human. And yet… Obi-Wan finds himself regretting his exit, regretting his choice to leave Anakin alone in the dining hall. It’s as if—

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin’s voice startles him. In his deep thought, he did not hear him arrive at the doorway of his quarters. Obi-Wan turns to look at Anakin, and he sighs as he sees the hopeful expression on Anakin’s face. Why must he be tormented?

“Anakin, they say that in the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. He created the seas, the fish, the birds, the crawling creatures. And He created man. But He did not create me. There are no schoolbooks that would teach you how to escape, only old traditions passed down by lucky survivors, some true, some false. You do not know what you are dealing with, Anakin Skywalker.” And Obi-Wan resists the urge to slink towards Anakin, to grip his throat in his hand and tell him exactly how much danger he is in, whether he is divine or not.

“Well, I have never been taught to read, so perhaps I do not know all that you speak of. I only know I would remain in your company because I am curious. I am drawn to you, and that is enough for me,” Anakin says, and he lifts his chin a bit, as if to appear more confident, like a young soldier who has never seen battle donning armor for the first time. But one statement has stuck within Obi-Wan’s head.

“You don’t know how to read, Anakin?” Obi-Wan asks.

Anakin shakes his head. “I know the Bible stories, but I am a peasant, Obi-Wan. Where would I have learned to read?” Obi-Wan walks towards Anakin now. He brushes his hair out of his face and gazes into his pure blue eyes, wide and almost innocent in their wonder.

“Well, Anakin. The very least I can do is attempt to be a good host. Come with me to the library. I will show you my books.” And Obi-Wan offers Anakin his arm, all thoughts of feeding on him pushed to the back of his mind instantly as Anakin smiles warmly. 

And as they walk through the dim, candlelit corridors, as Anakin grips Obi-Wan’s arm a little tighter than strictly necessary, Obi-Wan feels something he has not felt for hundreds of years. A creeping sense of vitality crawling through his being like new vines up the side of a long-abandoned building. And this time, Obi-Wan does not shake it away. This time, he leans into it. He places one of his hands atop Anakin’s where it rests in the crook of his elbow and hears Anakin’s faint inhale of surprise at his action. And with each step forward he takes, he finds himself thinking less of what Anakin might sound like gasping his last breaths, and more of what he might sound like if he were to laugh.


	4. perspicacity

July 1522

“Very good, Anakin! You’re making amazing progress,” Obi-Wan says as they close the worn Bible on the library desk. Anakin looks incredibly pleased with himself. “I must say, you’ve adapted to my nighttime schedule quite well. It is as if you were born to be a vampire.” Obi-Wan realizes his words a second too late, and he opens his mouth to refute what he’s just said, but Anakin speaks first.

“Perhaps, but I’m happy being human for now. Besides, I think I’m still a little young for you, Obi-Wan. I am only twenty-two,” Anakin says, and Obi-Wan can sense the beginnings of a chuckle forming within Anakin’s chest like a lovely creature just waiting to be released.

“Well, you always will be much younger than I am, Anakin. But I understand your desire to age a little bit.” Obi-Wan says the words before he realizes he’s encouraging a conversation that he should’ve aborted at its first inklings. But it is far too late.

“One day, I’ll be like you. I know I will,” Anakin states, surety flooding his voice. Obi-Wan frowns.

“Are you so quick to throw away your humanity? So quick to damn yourself to the eternal night of a life stained in the blood of the innocent? I do not understand, Anakin.” Obi-Wan gazes into Anakin’s eyes as Anakin rises from his chair and moves to stand behind Obi-Wan before wrapping his arms around Obi-Wan’s shoulders and leaning in to whisper in his ear.

“My soul is mine to damn if I wish, and one day you will understand. But for now, I’m hungry. Can today’s reading lesson be over?” And Anakin leans in and kisses Obi-Wan’s cheek. The warmth of Anakin’s soft lips is at once heavenly and torturous, and Obi-Wan knows he’s slipping into a pool of yearning from which he will never emerge. There will be no happy ending here. Anakin will die or he will turn. But Obi-Wan shoves these thoughts to the furthest reaches of his consciousness as if they were pure venom and smiles.

“Yes, we can end today’s lesson here. Go on, get something to eat, my wild rose,” Obi-Wan says, and Anakin laughs as he releases Obi-Wan’s neck and stands to his full height. And that sound, the sound of Anakin’s laugh, ringing through the air like the clearest, most refined silver bells, reaches deep into what used to be Obi-Wan’s soul and tugs at it, and Obi-Wan finds himself wanting to hear it again. He turns his head to look at Anakin now.

“Thank you, Obi-Wan. And I still do love that name, so I can always remember the first time we argued and I won.” Anakin winks at Obi-Wan as he walks around the table and pauses in the doorway of the library. Obi-Wan doesn’t even have the heart to contradict Anakin. Not when he’s walking with that carefree, confident stride. Not when he’s spinning on his heel to look back at Obi-Wan and beckoning to him with a look in his eyes that’s far too close to salacious for comfort.

“Coming?” Anakin asks, and Obi-Wan is jerked into thoughts of what Anakin might be like when he’s spread out on a bedspread, open and ready for Obi-Wan to take. What might he sound like when he’s begging to come? But Obi-Wan shakes these thoughts away, hoping they will dissipate like fog before the moonlight, and he stands and follows Anakin out of the library.

\---

“Obi-Wan…” The sound of his name halts him in his tracks, one of his hands raised to Anakin’s door to knock. He freezes. Surely Anakin couldn’t have heard him outside his door. He was absolutely silent, so silent it’s as if, to a human, he was not there at all.

“ _Obi-Wan_ …” There it is again, and this time, the sound of it makes Obi-Wan recoil with embarrassment and bloom with curiosity and want at the same time. He doesn’t want to admit that he knows what Anakin is doing inside his quarters, but he knows all too well exactly what must be going on.

“Obi-Wan, oh _fuck_ that’s good,” Anakin moans, and Obi-Wan feels a slight shudder travel the length of his body like a snake slithering through the grass. He knows he should leave immediately, so he does, because that is what he _should_ do. He silently walks back to his quarters.

He thinks.

He wonders how Anakin was touching himself. Was he stroking his cock? Was he fucking himself on his fingers? What was he imagining Obi-Wan doing to him? And then a flood of images comes rushing into Obi-Wan’s mind, as if a dam within his brain had just been broken. Anakin underneath him, pinned down to a bed, or maybe a floor, begging for Obi-Wan to come inside him. Anakin on top of him, riding his cock while Obi-Wan’s hands caress his hips and Anakin arches into it. Anakin on all fours, maybe in the garden, spreading his legs to show Obi-Wan how ready he is to be taken. Anakin—

“Obi-Wan?” Obi-Wan whips around to see Anakin standing a little ways behind him, his clothes in slight disarray and his hair tousled, a slight flush still on his cheeks. He’s already put Obi-Wan so deep into a reverie that Obi-Wan didn’t notice his approach, the least he could do is have the decency to make himself look like he hasn’t just been fucked. He must have been biting his bottom lip, Obi-Wan observes, because it’s redder than usual, a rosy hue like that of a freshly bloomed flower. Obi-Wan chuckles as Anakin stares at him, waiting for a response.

“Yes, Anakin?” Obi-Wan wants to sound weary, wants to sound put out with Anakin’s sudden appearance in this manner, but instead, the words leave his voice with a kind of supplication to them, a hint of excitement, just to be in Anakin’s presence.

“Would you like to read to me? It’s good practice for me, and I do like listening to your voice. We could sit in my quarters, so it’s more comfortable, if you wish,” Anakin says, and before Obi-Wan knows what he’s saying, he’s agreeing to this. Before Obi-Wan knows what he’s doing, he’s standing with a book in the doorway of Anakin’s quarters as Anakin hops on the bed and pats the space beside him, reclining against the pillow. Obi-Wan observes the slightly messy bedspread as he moves to sit down beside Anakin, and schools his face into a neutral expression.

As Obi-Wan sits beside Anakin, as their sides touch, his mind torments him with images of Anakin writhing on this bed. Images of Anakin begging for it. Images of Anakin taking what he wants. _Anakin, Anakin, Anakin_ flooding through his mind like clean water flushing out a tainted pool, and Obi-Wan has decided upon one thing.

This year will be absolute, exquisite torture.

August 1523

“Anakin, what is that awful smell—” Obi-Wan turns the corner of the corridor to see Anakin leaned up against a stone pillar, giggling. He’s wearing...barely anything, his favored white shift altered to have a deep v neck and a slit up to his upper thigh on both sides. This is certainly new, because the fabric is so thin Obi-Wan can see Anakin’s golden skin underneath. Anakin drags one of his own hands from his chest to his thigh, moaning a little when he touches his clothed cock, and looking right at Obi-Wan.

“Come and take me, Obi-Wan. I want it,” Anakin says, and he begins to hike up his skirt. Unable to wait another moment, Obi-Wan strides towards him, only to be stopped by something like an invisible stone wall. He can go no further than a few feet from Anakin. Then he realizes. The smell. He looks at Anakin’s head and sees it’s graced with the foulest type of blossom: garlic blossoms, great spherical violet flowers. He all but snarls as Anakin begins to palm his cock through the fabric of his shift.

“Take that ridiculous thing off, Anakin. Don’t be silly,” Obi-Wan demands, but Anakin only chuckles and then gasps as he keeps touching himself.

“Oh, but Obi-Wan, it’s so pretty. And I’m prey with no defense, remember? I’m sure you can catch me.” And with that, Anakin holds his insidious crown to his head and skips off down the corridor, headed for their quarters. Obi-Wan follows like a moth drawn to a burning flame, not caring what taunting he may endure for this. He just needs Anakin. Needs to see him, needs to convince him to take that thing off and be touched. 

When Obi-Wan reaches the doorway of their quarters, Anakin is splayed out on their bed, shift hiked up around his waist, a vial of lubricant in his hand as he slicks up his fingers. He’s almost shivering with excitement, and Obi-Wan crawls onto the edge of the bed before being hit with that unseen barrier again. This time, he really does snarl. He bares his teeth at Anakin like a ravenous lion, but Anakin only looks at him as if he’s a harmless kitten.

“Take. It. Off. Stop this nonsense,” Obi-Wan grits out, but he almost whines as Anakin slides one of his fingers inside himself, gasping softly as he does so. Obi-Wan wants to touch him, _needs_ to touch him, and yet he can’t. 

“This is going to feel so good, Obi-Wan. I know exactly what I like, and you’re going to watch and learn. How many fingers do you think I can fit in myself? I want to make myself come, and you’re going to be good and observe,” Anakin says as he spreads his legs wider and pumps his finger in and out of himself, his face a mix of concentration and pleasure. “I just wish I could watch...what do I look like, Obi-Wan?” Obi-Wan opens his mouth to speak, but his tongue feels heavy in his mouth as he watches Anakin begin to please himself. He swallows thickly before even attempting to speak. Anakin is using his other hand to stroke his cock to hardness now, and Obi-Wan bites his bottom lip, not caring that his fangs dig into his flesh.

“You look...beautiful, Anakin. Absolutely stunning. If there is a god somewhere, you are their favorite creation. You are radiant, lying here and making yourself feel pleasure. Take that crown off. Let me help you,” Obi-Wan says, close to pleading, but keeping his voice in check, reining it in lest it grow desperate. Anakin smiles.

“Thank you, Obi-Wan, but I think I’ll keep it on a little while longer. I think it’s pretty, and I like to be pretty. And I’m starting to feel so _good_. Do you see how hard I am? I’m dripping all over myself. Hmmm, I wonder…” And Anakin smears his fingers through the precum gathered at the head of his cock and then brings his hand to his mouth, licking his fingertips and moaning softly.

“ _Anakin_ —”

“I taste good, Obi-Wan. Mmmm, I want more of that. I wonder if I can make myself come all over my stomach and chest so I can taste it? What do you think? Do you like watching me? I think I need another finger inside me.” And Obi-Wan feels his mouth fall open slightly as Anakin pulls his finger out of himself and then brings two fingers to his entrance, petting his hole gently, stroking it without pushing inside, his movements deliberate and delicate.

“Anakin, let me touch you, too,” Obi-Wan says simply, feeling how hard his cock is in his pants just from watching Anakin play with himself. He watches as Anakin slides two fingers inside himself and almost jolts with the intensity of this feeling that _he_ should be touching Anakin. That the breathy sigh that’s leaving Anakin’s lips should be brought about by his actions. But it’s growing strangely addicting, watching Anakin toy with his perfect body, watching him fuck himself on two fingers while he struggles to stay concentrated enough to stroke his cock at the same time. Obi-Wan reaches a hand between his own legs to at least palm himself through his pants, but Anakin finally speaks.

“Be good, Obi-Wan. Just watch me. It feels so _good_ , Obi-Wan. I’ll tell you a secret. When I first came to stay with you, I used to dream about you fucking me. I’d wake up in the middle of the night, cock hard and leaking, my body just _aching_ to be filled, and I’d fuck myself on my fingers like this in your guest quarters, biting down on the pillow so you wouldn’t hear me. I’d get four fingers inside myself, trying to get enough so I’d come. And I’d—”

“Anakin, I _knew_. Do you think I couldn’t sense your desperation for me? You have _no idea_ how many times I stopped myself from knocking on your door, from offering to help you. I wanted nothing more than to spread your pretty legs and fuck into you until you were screaming. So take that off, my wild rose. Let’s enjoy our time together,” Obi-Wan says, and he reaches a hand out, having forgotten the barrier that slams into him as soon as he tries.

“Oh god, you _knew_? And you still waited for me to come to you? We have so many nights to make up for. But right now I _love_ this. Look, Obi-Wan, I’m getting myself nice and stretched. Oh, imagine if you could put your fingers inside me next to mine? We’d get me so ready for your cock. God, I love the way your cock fills me up. It’s so _big_ , sometimes you make me cry when you fuck me because it’s so much. And look how tight I am still, Obi-Wan.” And Anakin pulls his fingers out before massaging his rim again, Obi-Wan unable to think of a good response.

“Tell me what it’s like to fuck me,” Anakin says as he slides three fingers inside himself and begins pumping them in and out, moaning as he strokes his cock with the same rhythm, his perfectly lilting voice traveling through the air like an angel’s promise of good tidings.

“Oh, Anakin, it’s marvelous. You’re always so slick and warm and _tight_ around my cock, so velvet and perfect. When I grab your hips, you writhe on me, and you spread your legs even wider, trying to get more of my cock inside you. You always like it so deep, Anakin. And you’re always _dripping_ , your pretty cock hard and leaking all over. You take my cock like you were made for it, always begging for more, begging to have it faster, harder. And when you come, you grow shaky, crying out for me, becoming so sensitive. But even then you want more. Fucking you is absolutely divine, Anakin.” And Obi-Wan observes as Anakin’s eyelids flutter shut for a moment at his words.

“Oh _fuck_ , I want your cock inside me now. But I need to make myself come first. I want you to watch me make myself feel good. And my fingers feel _amazing_. Look, Obi-Wan. I have three inside me now. I’m nice and open. I love this feeling, when I’m so ready to take you but I don’t get it yet. I should always keep myself like this, all ready for you. Would you like that?” And Anakin’s voice wavers a bit as he asks his question, the pleasure he’s giving himself finally having more of an effect on him. At the very least, Obi-Wan can talk him through it.

“You’ll get my cock soon enough, dear one. Keep touching yourself. Move your fingers just like that. Anakin. I do not know what angels really look like, but if they are heavenly to look upon, then I imagine they would resemble you. You look gorgeous, my wild rose, taking your pleasure for yourself. Move your hand a little faster, good boy. You’re going to be so ready for me when I fuck you, so pliant and loose. If you would only take that crown off—”

“Be patient, Obi-Wan. I think I’ll try something else…” And Anakin retrieves more lubricant from the vial before getting on all fours, facing away from Obi-Wan, spreading his legs so Obi-Wan can see _everything_. Anakin circles his rim with the tip of one finger, shivering as he does so, his hole clenching down on nothing but air. Obi-Wan nearly chokes.

“Anakin, _please_ , take that thing off. I need to touch you,” Obi-Wan says, but Anakin only giggles.

“You need to _watch_ me,” Anakin says, and he slides two fingers inside himself, his shift hiked up around his waist and making it all the more tantalizing as he plays with himself and refuses to allow Obi-Wan to join in. “Watch me open myself up for you,” Anakin demands, and Obi-Wan can tell Anakin is spreading his two fingers apart slowly, over and over again, just to tease.

“I’m watching you, dear one. I just wish you’d remove that crown so I can touch you—”

“I _love_ this feeling. I love getting myself ready to take your cock. I need three fingers to really prepare myself. But sometimes I just like to play.” And Anakin withdraws his fingers and strokes his rim again, shuddering a little as he does so. He must be so sensitive, and Obi-Wan can feel himself growing achingly hard. “Do you like watching me play? I’m so slick and wet, you could probably slide your cock inside me right now and I’d just moan for you. Do you like fucking me when I’m like this? When I’m on all fours? I like it because you can grab my hips or pull my hair, force yourself so deep inside me..”

“Anakin, do you need me on my knees, begging? _Please_ let me touch you,” Obi-Wan says, but it comes out as more of a whine than anything, strangled and broken. Anakin turns back around so he’s reclining against the pillows once more.

“I wanted to see your face again. I like to watch the faces you make when I fuck myself for you. I’m getting so close. Do you think I can make myself come with my fingers, and my hand stroking my cock? I used to do it all the time when I would think of you. I’d close my eyes and imagine it was you touching me, you stretching me out and getting me ready for your cock. But you weren’t there, so I’d use my fingers and end up still feeling so empty. Obi-Wan, tell me what you would’ve done if you’d found me like that,” Anakin demands, and words come pouring out of Obi-Wan’s mouth like a waterfall, almost before Anakin has even finished his request.

“I would have made sure you were nice and open, dear one. Slid my fingers inside you alongside your own to make sure you were ready to take me. Then, when you were whining and begging for it, I would have spread your legs a little wider, so I could fuck you just as deep as I know you’d like. Maybe I’d have you climb on top of me, so I could watch your face as you took my cock for the first time, and I know you’d be so good. I’d grab your hips so I could guide you, and I’d make sure you took all of me, until you were whimpering and whining about how deep I was inside you—”

“Oh fuck, Obi-Wan, I’m so close. I’m gonna come. Please watch me, watch me come for you,” Anakin says, and suddenly he’s coming in four long spurts onto his white shift, pumping his fingers in and out of himself as his head falls back and his lips part in a moan. His toes curl against the sheets and he mumbles something unintelligible as he trembles against the bedspread, and Obi-Wan can’t help the shudder that wracks his own body as he watches Anakin so consumed by his own pleasure. Anakin’s fingers slide out of himself and Obi-Wan can’t help but want to slide his own fingers in, stretch Anakin further, take him right now. But until Anakin takes that infernal thing off his head, he can’t. Now Anakin is coming back to his senses, swiping his fingers through the mess on his shift. He looks at Obi-Wan.

“Should I keep going? I’m so sensitive, this feels _amazing_...but first…” And Anakin reaches up to grip the crown of garlic blossoms and remove it from his head, tossing it aside. With the barrier no longer obstructing him, Obi-Wan is on top of Anakin in an instant, two fingers sliding inside him, his other hand pressing Anakin down into the bedspread.

“ _Anakin,_ you’re so ready for me. Your pretty hole all open ready to take my cock. But you smell _disgusting_ , dear one. We need to remedy that.” And Obi-Wan scoops Anakin up in his arms, making him yelp. He lifts him off the bed as if he weighed nothing, and carries him out of their quarters and into the corridor.

\---

“In you go, my little Savior,” Obi-Wan says, and he places Anakin into the shallow end of the enormous bath in the bathhouse. Anakin squeals.

“You and your baths. You don’t need to take them so frequently,” Anakin grouses, but Obi-Wan only laughs and thinks of days in bathhouses much like this smaller, private one.

“Well, I am a man of my time, Anakin. Let me have my baths. And let me have you.” And Obi-Wan starts lathering up Anakin’s hair as Anakin squirms a bit.

“I thought you were going to fuck me,” Anakin complains as Obi-Wan helps him rinse his hair and begins work on washing his body.

“Patience, Anakin. You tease me to my wits’ end, and you expect to be fucked right away? Well lucky for you, I can’t wait much longer. Not when you’re standing so close. Just allow me to appreciate you for a minute,” Obi-Wan says, and he takes his time running his slick hands over Anakin’s body, focusing especially on Anakin’s muscled arms, on his perfectly sculpted torso, and his toned legs. Anakin shudders against him even as he tells him to rinse off, and Anakin quickly complies. Obi-Wan comes up behind him and grips his hips, rubbing his thumbs over Anakin’s skin as Anakin instinctively bends over and grips the stone wall of the bath.

“ _Fuck me_ ,” Anakin murmurs as he pushes back against Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan’s hands travel down to his ass and spread it apart, looking at his slightly stretched out hole.

“You’re ready for it, indeed. And we have lubrication… Actually, I think we’ll try something else. Hand me that vial please,” Obi-Wan says, and he slicks up his cock as Anakin waits, anticipation rolling off him in waves. Then Obi-Wan slides his cock between Anakin’s thighs.

“What are you doing?” Anakin asks, sounding frustrated. Obi-Wan leans over him to whisper in his ear.

“You were a terrible tease, Anakin. Now it’s my turn. I’m going to fuck your thighs, and you’re going to be a good boy and hold still, and I’m going to really enjoy you. Understand?” As Obi-Wan speaks, he begins thrusting into the scant space between Anakin’s thighs, and Anakin makes a noncommittal noise as he adjusts himself, huffing when he gets into position.

“Can I touch myself?” Anakin asks.

“Not yet, my wild rose. Good things come to those who wait. Right now, I want to enjoy your softness, this part of you too often ignored. Squeeze your legs a little tighter together. There you go. Now just hold still and let me enjoy you,” Obi-Wan says, and he increases the pace of his thrusts a bit. It’s absolute bliss, fucking against Anakin like this. He can feel every little movement Anakin makes, the way he shifts the position of his legs slightly, likely an attempt to make things feel better for Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan smiles.

“Does that feel good? I feel so _empty_ ,” Anakin whines, and Obi-Wan chuckles.

“It feels lovely, Anakin, and don’t worry, you’ll get what you need. Right now, just know that every part of you is sublime. Oh, Anakin, _finally_ I get to touch you, get to fuck you. Do you like that, dear one?” Obi-Wan can sense Anakin is getting used to the concept, but he doesn’t feel any discomfort from him.

“I thought I wouldn’t, but feeling your cock between my thighs… It’s so big, Obi-Wan. I like this. Talk to me, talk me through it. Please?” Anakin asks, and Obi-Wan leans in to kiss Anakin’s shoulder.

“Of course, my wild rose. Oh, it’s amazing, fucking against you this way. I love fucking into you, but for now, we’re going to ignore your perfectly prepared, tight hole. This is a punishment of sorts. So pay attention to my cock between your legs, and maybe if you’re good, I’ll fuck you,” Obi-Wan murmurs, and Anakin whimpers a little.

“It’s so good, feeling you like this. Can I touch myself now? I just want to stroke my cock while you do that. I promise I won’t come. I’ll be good, I promise. Please, Obi-Wan? It’s too much; I feel your cock but it’s not fucking me. I need something. Please?” Anakin is begging and the sound of it saturates the air like a sweet perfume. Obi-Wan leans over Anakin again and scrapes his fangs against his upper back, making Anakin shiver.

“Alright, you may touch yourself. But be a good little human and don’t come, or I’ll tie you up so you can’t touch yourself and tease you for hours without giving you release. Do you understand?” Obi-Wan sees Anakin nod in front of him, and Obi-Wan is satisfied with that. And then Anakin starts touching himself.

And oh, it’s marvelous, feeling Anakin’s hand and the underside of his hard cock as Obi-Wan fucks into the space between his thighs. It’s slick and perfect and he can hear Anakin start to whine as the speed of his strokes on his own cock increases. And the faster Obi-Wan thrusts, the more he feels Anakin in this way, the closer he gets to that edge, and he wonders about Anakin. He doesn’t have to wonder long, because Anakin is whining suddenly.

“Obi-Wan, I can’t. I need something inside me. I need your cock in me. Please, even your fingers would be good enough; I just feel so empty. I need something to fill me up.” And Anakin sounds so pitiful that Obi-Wan moves his cock and positions it at Anakin’s entrance. And Anakin almost loses all grip on sanity.

“Oh god, _please_ I need your cock in me stretching me out I need it you’re so big please fill me up—”

“Anakin, I’m here.” The words Obi-Wan speaks are simple, but Anakin relaxes immediately, his body all but going limp against the wall of the bath, and then Obi-Wan is pressing three slick fingers into him, gauging how stretched he is, before sliding the head of his cock inside Anakin, gripping his hip with one hand because he knows it’ll make Anakin squirm, and the image of Anakin writhing on him, his body completely at his mercy, makes Obi-Wan’s cock twitch.

“I just want it...so bad,” Anakin sobs. “Please, I want you deeper.” Obi-Wan grins as he slowly slides further into Anakin and watches Anakin wiggle slightly, his body welcoming the stretch. 

“You take me so well, dear one. And you love it, don’t you? You love having my cock so deep inside you. When you first showed up at my doorstep, I thought I’d be rid of you within the week. Who knew one day you’d be taking my cock like you were born for it? You’re mine, Anakin, just as I am yours,” Obi-Wan says, And he thrusts into Anakin hard. Anakin keens, and the sound fills the bathhouse.

“I want more, I want it deeper. Fuck me harder, Obi-Wan. Oh god, it’s so good. I want…” Anakin trails off as if embarrassed, and Obi-Wan is curious.

“What do you want, Anakin?” Obi-Wan asks.

“I just—ah! I don’t want to come like this,” Anakin whines.

“How about this, my little Messiah? How about I come on your pretty face and you swallow it like a good boy and we go back to our quarters so I can put my mouth on you? For now, just let your pretty cock make a mess and don’t touch yourself.” As Obi-Wan speaks, Anakin shivers, and Obi-Wan knows he’s spoken the words Anakin was hoping to hear.

“Tell me what you’re going to do to me,” Anakin breathes. Obi-Wan increases the pace of his thrusts, careful not to hit that spot inside Anakin that would shoot pleasure up his spine. And yet…

“I’m going to lay you on your back and spread your legs and lick around your pretty hole until you’re whining and begging for it, and my tongue won’t even be inside you yet. But you’ll already be almost ready to come, you know why?” Obi-Wan asks.

“Why?” Anakin inquires, sounding curious.

“Because I’m going to bring you to the edge three times right now. I’m going to fuck you so well that I have to stop you from coming, and you’re going to be squirming on my cock, begging not to come yet because you want my mouth on you, and I’m going to help you. I’m going to show you now. I want you to talk, Anakin. Tell me when you’re about to come, alright?” And Obi-Wan reaches around to wrap his hand around Anakin’s cock.

“Oh _fuck_ , I’ll tell you. I kind of want to come right now, with your cock inside me. God, I love coming on your cock. I can always feel it so deep inside me. I clench down on you and come all over myself and it’s so _good_ , Obi-Wan. Do you like that?” Anakin asks, and he starts pushing himself back onto Obi-Wan’s cock.

“ _Yes_ , Anakin. You’re always so good, so tight around me, taking my cock so well, just like you are now. Anakin you’re so _warm_. Get out of the bath. Get on the floor, on your back. I want to watch your face while you take it,” Obi-Wan says, and Anakin is clambering out of the bath, lying on the floor, and Obi-Wan takes a moment to look at him. Legs spread, hole ready and used, hair plastered to his forehead. He can have some fun with him yet.

“Anakin, play with yourself while I watch. Feel how open you are. Tell me how badly you want my cock inside you,” Obi-Wan says, and Anakin immediately brings a hand down to his entrance and begins petting his hole before sliding three fingers in and gasping.

“Obi-Wan, it’s good but I just had your cock inside me so it’s not good enough,” Anakin says, but he keeps pumping his fingers in and out of himself.

“Do you want my cock? I could take you now, fill you up again, make you feel complete. I do love fucking into that tight hole of yours. But first I need you to almost come. Keep working yourself with your fingers, dear one. I imagine that feels good, doesn’t it? Stroke your pretty cock; that’s it. You’ve been very bad today, Anakin, with your garlic crown. I am willing to forgive my Savior of anything, but I don’t think your lesson is over. Do you want my fingers next to yours? I’m willing to do that.” And Obi-Wan crouches over Anakin. 

“ _Yes_ ,” Anakin says, and he slides his fingers out so Obi-Wan can slide two fingers inside him. In barely a moment, two of Anakin’s fingers are alongside Obi-Wan’s, and Anakin is whining.

“Good?” Obi-Wan asks as he moves Anakin’s other hand out of the way and begins to stroke his cock himself.

“ _Amazing_ ,” Anakin gasps, and they move their fingers in tandem with each other, Obi-Wan stroking Anakin’s cock faster as Anakin lies prone on the floor of the bathhouse.

“You’re close, aren’t you? I’m not going to let you come,” Obi-Wan says, and Anakin begins to tremble.

“Oh god, I’m so close. Please, please, let me come, Obi-Wan. Your fingers feel so good...please—” But even as Anakin speaks, Obi-Wan is squeezing Anakin’s cock and withdrawing his fingers, denying Anakin pleasure. Anakin is panting on the floor, his cock hard against his stomach and his hand automatically going back to play with his hole. Obi-Wan watches for a moment, observing Anakin’s beautiful desperation, the way he pumps his fingers in and out of himself in a frenzied motion, the way his head falls back before he lifts it and looks at Obi-Wan, stopping his motions.

“Anakin, what do you know?” Obi-Wan asks calmly.

“You won’t let me come until I’ve been good,” Anakin says. “But what do I do now?” He sounds on the edge of something. Complete submission. Obi-Wan smiles at him.

“You’re going to ride me, and you’re going to go at the speed I choose. And you’re not going to come,” Obi-Wan says, and now he reclines on the floor. Anakin straddles his lap and positions himself above Obi-Wan’s cock.

“Oh, I already feel better,” Anakin says as he slides the head of Obi-Wan’s cock inside himself.

“Go slowly, my wild rose. I want to watch your face as you take my cock again.” And Obi-Wan watches as Anakin begins to take him slowly, his face twisting into a mask of concentration as he accommodates the intrusion, then relaxing into pleasure as he bottoms out.

“God, I want to come on your cock,” Anakin says as he begins to lift himself up and then bring himself down again. “It’s so _big_. This will be hard for me, Obi-Wan. I can already feel myself getting there, and—ah! Oh fuck, right there, that’s so good. I’ll be so open when you’re done with me, I won’t be able to walk.”

“We’ll see. Touch your cock for me, dear one. I adore watching you. You’re unparalleled, Anakin. Nothing else in this world or the worlds to come could rival you. I want you to get yourself to that edge. I know it won’t be long now; you’ve been fucked in some way for quite a while now,” Obi-Wan states, and he watches as Anakin bounces up and down, moving a hand to touch his own cock.

“Obi-Wan, I can feel it. Oh please just let me come. Let me come all over you. I’ve been so good,” Anakin whimpers.

“Just enjoy yourself, dear one. There’s no rush.” And Obi-Wan watches the way his cock disappears and reappears from within Anakin’s body, Anakin so tight and warm and slick, his hole clinging greedily to Obi-Wan’s cock. Anakin’s hand on his cock increases in speed, and Obi-Wan lets Anakin have a moment when he thinks he’ll get to come. But then he’s swatting Anakin’s hand away, gripping the base of Anakin’s cock, pulling him off and lifting him up, setting him on the ground.

“No no no no, _please_ ,” Anakin gasps, and he’s all but crying, his cock looking painfully hard. Anakin gets up and climbs back on top of Obi-Wan, positioning Obi-Wan’s cock at his entrance again, and Obi-Wan makes no move to stop him. Anakin needs some respite, anyway.

When Anakin sinks back down on Obi-Wan’s cock, it’s as if everything good and right in the world has been restored for him. He sighs out “ _Oh, thank you_ ,” as he bottoms out, and Obi-Wan reaches his hands out to grip his hips. Anakin arches into the touch, whimpering a little, as if it’s the first touch he’s had in centuries. He begins to bounce up and down, but it’s less frenzied, more relaxed. For a moment, Obi-Wan admires how pretty he looks, how well he takes his cock, the way he moves on it like he’s in love with the very idea of having it inside him. He’s arching his back and panting, his eyelids fluttering shut and his hard cock dripping precum as he tries to take as much as he possibly can, his body so pliant and open, it’s as if he were made for this moment.

“Obi-Wan...can I come now?” Anakin asks, his voice sounding absolutely pitiful as he tries to keep his motions steady.

“Not quite yet, my love, but if you’re a good boy and fuck yourself on my cock, I’ll come on your face, just like I know you love,” Obi-Wan says, and Anakin shivers atop him.

“Will you...make me eat it?” Anakin asks, anticipation lacing his voice.

“Of course. Now be good and tell me how this feels,” Obi-Wan says, his thumbs stroking Anakin’s skin, marveling at how submissive Anakin has become.

“Oh, Obi-Wan, it’s so good. I know I’m not allowed to come yet, but this makes it so hard. And you promise you’ll put your mouth on me and make me come if I’m good?” Anakin asks.

“I’ll do whatever you want, just for you. Anything for you, since you’ve been good—”

“Obi-Wan I’m so _close_ , oh I want to be good. I don’t want to come. Help me, Obi-Wan,” Anakin cries, and Obi-Wan is already stepping in, squeezing the base of Anakin’s cock and slowing the pace of Anakin’s movements.

“There you are, my wild rose. Are you still close?” Obi-Wan asks as he observes Anakin panting on top of him.

“I’m better now, thank you. Please come, Obi-Wan. It _hurts_. I’ll be good, I promise. Just come so I can finally feel better.” And Anakin begins bouncing up and down again and Obi-Wan doesn’t even stop him. Now Anakin is smirking. So perhaps this exercise in submission was only half successful.

“Let me make you feel good, Obi-Wan. I promise I won’t come yet. Just let me do this,” Anakin says, and Obi-Wan finds himself relaxing into Anakin, relaxing into Anakin’s motions, watching the addicting visual of Anakin riding him, the purity of Anakin’s visage mixed with the carnal image of Anakin taking his cock, and all too soon, once he lets go, Obi-Wan finds himself slipping towards orgasm. But Anakin is ever restless.

  
  


Obi-Wan doesn’t quite remember how, but they end up standing against one of the walls of the bathhouse, Anakin leaned up against it and sobbing with pleasure as Obi-Wan fucks into him from behind, gripping the base of Anakin’s cock the whole time, Anakin spreading his legs and whispering, “Oh fuck, yes, that’s _perfect_ ,” as Obi-Wan watches the way Anakin stretches around him and finds himself about to come.

“Anakin, I—”

But Anakin is already pulling off him and turning around to kneel with his mouth half-open, and Obi-Wan feels himself falling over the edge as he comes on Anakin’s face, watching as Anakin’s eyes fall shut and he moans as if he were actually being touched. And perhaps it’s the way Anakin looks, perhaps it’s the way Anakin looks _at him_ , that has Obi-Wan shuddering through aftershocks that feel a lot like miniature strikes of lightning as he finally comes down and cups Anakin’s chin in his hand and swipes his fingers through his cum, pushing it into Anakin’s mouth as Anakin willingly parts his lips and whines as the cum touches his tongue. 

Anakin doesn’t even wait to be completely cleaned; he reclines against one of the walls of the bathhouse and starts pumping three fingers in and out of himself while Obi-Wan kneels before him.

“You’ve been so good, Anakin. Do you want your reward?” Obi-Wan asks, and Anakin spreads his legs a little wider and slides his fingers out of himself.

“This is _your_ reward, Obi-Wan. You finally get to make me come. So put your mouth on me as you promised,” Anakin says, and Obi-Wan doesn’t even argue, just surges forward and laps at Anakin’s entrance, feeling how loose and pliant he is and moaning against him.

“Oh, that’s good, Obi-Wan. I’m not going to last long,” Anakin says, and Obi-Wan slides a finger inside Anakin alongside his tongue. He hears Anakin gasp.

“ _Fuck_ , you’re so good at that, Obi-Wan. Keep doing it like that…” And as Anakin trails off, Obi-Wan thinks of how absolutely radiant he has been, in every way. From his relentless teasing to his sweet submission and everything in between. 

“Obi-Wan, oh god I’m close. Can you just finger me and kiss me while I come?” Anakin sounds needier than ever, and Obi-Wan slides another finger inside him as he lifts his head, bringing him into a kiss at the same time as he curls his fingers. Anakin moans and arches against him, and he pulls away for a moment. Anakin reaches down to stroke his cock with an urgency to his motions, and he looks down at Obi-Wan’s hand for a moment before lifting his head again.

Anakin is looking up at him with wide eyes, his lashes wet with tears, his lips red, and he says, “I’m gonna come for you,” before surging forward to kiss Obi-Wan again. Obi-Wan curls his fingers one more time and suddenly Anakin is falling apart in his arms, shaking and whimpering against him as he comes. His orgasm seems to last forever, with him gripping Obi-Wan and murmuring things Obi-Wan cannot understand. Their kiss is less a kiss and more Anakin panting open-mouthed against him, but Obi-Wan couldn’t care less. Anakin is beautiful, carnal, spiritual, absolutely beyond compare, and as he comes down from his high and says, “Thank you,” Obi-Wan feels warmth blossoming in his chest.

“As always, it’s my pleasure, my wild rose. Are you alright?” Obi-Wan asks, and Anakin nods at him sleepily.

“Can I just...sit here for a moment?” Anakin asks, and he yawns and tries to conceal it with his hand. Obi-Wan chuckles and ruffles Anakin’s damp hair.

“Let’s clean you up and get you somewhere more comfortable instead, hm?” And Obi-Wan sees Anakin nod again, his perfect cheeks still a bit flushed like they’d been kissed by rose petals.

Obi-Wan stands and extends a hand to Anakin. Anakin takes it and begins to rise, but his legs wobble like a newborn colt. Obi-Wan scoops Anakin up into his arms and carries him back to the bath, kissing his cheek softly as Anakin wraps his arms around him and nestles his head against him.

“Two baths in one day. Now you are taking it to extremes,” Anakin mumbles, and Obi-Wan laughs softly at the attempted joke, setting Anakin down to sit on the stairs of the bath and retrieving a rag to wash him down.

“It’s hardly an extreme when I’m simply looking after your well-being, dear one,” Obi-Wan says, wiping Anakin’s face down. Anakin scrunches his nose at the feeling of the rag, but he’s hiding a smile.

\---

June 1522

“Obi-Wan, why do you believe you are damned?” Anakin asks. Anakin shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be asking him this question, and certainly shouldn’t be sitting so close beside him as they gaze into the fireplace. Anakin is always cold, Obi-Wan has noticed. He shouldn’t care. He does care.

“Anakin, I am living yet dead. I feast on the blood of innocent human beings to survive, and I have cheated the natural cycle of things with my immortality. If there is any higher-order to things, by all accounts, I deserve damnation,” Obi-Wan answers, hoping Anakin will drop the subject before one of them says something they regret. Anakin remains silent for a moment.

“How did you turn?” Anakin asks, not sounding timid at all though he is making such a personal inquiry. Obi-Wan sighs.

“One night, during the time of the Roman Empire, when I was a human, I was attacked by a vampire. It must have been a young vampire, one still ridden with the guilt that so often comes with immortality, because he stopped drinking from me as I was growing faint and bit me again, on the inside of my elbow, ensuring his venom would spread quickly, then ran, disappearing into the night. He must have thought he was doing me a great service, turning me instead of killing me, but I did not ask for this. Nobody ever politely inquired of me whether I’d like to be a vampire. It simply happened. My opinion was never of any consequence. 

“So it baffles me, Anakin, that you, with the ability to choose life, have chosen instead to chase at the coattails of eternal stagnation and guilt. You are foolish, as I have said.” And Obi-Wan shifts a little farther away from Anakin, hoping he will reconsider his choice to stay in the castle.

“So because of something you did not choose, something that was thrust upon you by another, you believe you are damned? I believe your logic is flawed. Damnation does not result from the decisions others make for us. Perhaps being a vampire is damnation in and of itself, but I do not believe someone who had that forced upon him is any more guilty than a child whose parents needlessly beat them. You are far too guilty for someone who claims his damnation is the result of another’s force.” Anakin turns to peek at Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan wonders how a man of twenty-two could possess such clarity of mind.

“And yet, here you are, seeking damnation willingly. If you do not leave, I will turn you or I will kill you. You place far too much trust in me,” Obi-Wan says, and then Anakin is baring his throat, pulling the collar of his shirt away so Obi-Wan can see the vein running down the side of his neck.

“You say you could kill me. I do not believe you. But I don’t want to prolong the inevitable. If you can kill me, do it now. Free yourself from me.” As soon as the words leave Anakin’s mouth, Obi-Wan is on him, holding him still against the floor in his arms, scraping his fangs against his neck.

“You are a fool, Anakin Skywalker,” Obi-Wan whispers against Anakin’s neck, but Anakin only leans into his touch.

“I am no more foolish than you are, a vampire who cannot kill an unarmed human,” Anakin goads, and Obi-Wan finds himself wanting to prolong this twisted embrace, wanting to turn it into something far more caring and soft. Instead, he places an open-mouthed kiss on Anakin’s skin, and Anakin sighs as if he’s never been touched before this very moment.

“Why must you torment me so, Anakin? I do not wish to see harm come to you. You dangle salvation in front of my face like a prize I can never attain, and yet I want more.” And Obi-Wan loosens his grip on Anakin. But he does not release him, and he does not move his face from where it sits nestled in his neck.

“Perhaps you need only to reach out and take the prize which you have denied yourself for so long,” Anakin whispers, and he reaches up to wrap his arms around Obi-Wan’s neck. Obi-Wan stiffens and begins to pull away, but Anakin holds him tighter.

“Oh, my wild rose, you do not know the garden which you have chosen to bloom in,” Obi-Wan says, sadness seeping through his voice. He knows he will never be able to harm Anakin.

“Let me choose where to bloom, and I will flourish under your hand,” Anakin murmurs, and Obi-Wan feels a strange sense of warmth fill his chest, like unseen sunlight. 

“I wouldn’t know where to start with you. You, dear already to me,” Obi-Wan says, and he pulls away a bit so he’s kneeling in front of Anakin. He reaches a hand out, then starts to withdraw it, but Anakin grabs his wrist.

“Touch me,” Anakin says simply, and Obi-Wan doesn’t need any further excuse. He pushes the hair out of Anakin’s face, as softly as if he were touching the most delicate of spring blooms. He runs his thumb over the scar bisecting Anakin’s eye, making a note to inquire about it later. He trails his hand down to cup Anakin’s cheek and brushes his thumb against the soft skin. And he brushes his thumb across Anakin’s full bottom lip, wondering how it would feel to press his lips against Anakin’s, to feel the softness and warmth that covers the fury and passion at Anakin’s core. Anakin sighs in pleasure, and Obi-Wan pulls his hand away. But something definitive has changed. 

“What is it?” Anakin asks, concern written on his face. Obi-Wan laughs softly.

“Anakin...I feel...like myself again. I feel closer to human than I have in hundreds of years. Oh, my wild rose, what have you done to me?” And as Obi-Wan finishes speaking, Anakin laughs. Bright and sweet and right and wonderful.

“You’ve always been yourself, Obi-Wan. You did not need the ramblings of a peasant boy to achieve that.” But Anakin smiles as he speaks, and Obi-Wan smiles back at him before moving to sit next to him again, though this time much closer.

“Perhaps, Anakin. But you have made me remember things about myself that have remained long forgotten to me. You may never be able to baptize me into a state of purity, but you insist upon leading me to the clean water, and maybe that in itself is salvation enough.”


End file.
